


Tides

by lillyluna



Series: Guide You Home [2]
Category: Original Work, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, College, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Drama, Family Feels, Future Fic, Growing Up, High School, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kid Fic, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major Original Character(s), Original Character(s), Same-Sex Marriage, Sick Kid, Surfing, Surgery, Teen Angst, Teenage Dorks, Teenage Rebellion, Young Love, going away to college
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 18:04:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 185,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1908612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillyluna/pseuds/lillyluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Oliver's first Olympics, Michael and Ryan take both their boys on a trip to Costa Rica. One last family trip before Oliver leaves for Harvard. What happens in Costa Rica threatens to change their family forever. </p><p>What comes after Proud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> To call this swimming rpf is kind of a stretch. It is heavily focused on Talan and Oliver but Ryan and Michael's relationship is still an important factor. 
> 
> This is what I meant to write when I wrote Proud. Proud only serves as a precursor to this fic. I strongly encourage that you read it along with Talan Is to get the full breadth of the characters. 
> 
> When I added Talan to my kid fic canon, I stopped writing Oliver's Sick Fic because I knew it no longer fit into my story line. This is what replaces it. This is what I've wanted to write for a year and a half. 
> 
> If you hate it, it's okay. 
> 
> I really want to thank everyone who still reads my stories. I never thought there would be so many of you it really blows my mind and I'm super thankful for all of you. The fact that you fell in love with original characters means more to me than you can imagine. Thank you for loving Talan. 
> 
> This is once again brought to you because of Mugglemiranda's never ending support and friendship and text messages.

**Florida**

Talan and Ryan leave Michael and Oliver behind at the airport in New York because Oliver has a week of press interviews and Talan wants to be at the beach. 

Talan’s preference for his own bed in Florida isn’t the only factor in Michael and Ryan’s decision to split up again. Oliver is coming back home a much bigger celebrity than he’d been when they’d left. Michael and Ryan are conscious of the media circus that’s about to surround Oliver and it isn’t anything they want Talan to be a part of. Talan hasn’t signed up to be famous and Talan has already sacrificed more than his fair share for Oliver this summer. 

Talan falls asleep ten minutes into the flight from New York to Florida. He’s slouched down in his seat with his head resting against Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan can hear the faint hum of the music Talan’s listening to and once he knows Talan is asleep, he carefully pulls off his headphones. 

Ryan’s exhausted as well but can’t seem to fall asleep. He thinks of how tired Oliver had looked and how much work Oliver still has to do. Ryan knows that Michael’s got Oliver covered; the person he needs to worry about is Talan. 

After two years of dealing with anxiety and steadily going to therapy Talan knows his triggers and he’s learned how to avoid them. Ryan cringes when he thinks of how Michael and him made it impossible for Talan to cope in Rotterdam. They’d forced Talan to face triggering situations and called him selfish when he tried to keep himself safe. 

Ryan doesn’t bother to wake up Talan when the flight attendant comes by with drinks. 

Ryan realizes now that by spending the past few months mindlessly taking away all the things they know Talan needs to be okay they’ve forced Talan to take a huge step backwards. Little things have added up over the past year and now Talan’s back in a place he hasn’t been in a long time. It’s difficult to think that they’ve sacrificed part of his well being for Oliver’s success. 

Ryan leans his head against Talan’s for a second as he thinks of how much the past year’s hurt him. Ryan’s never had words to describe to anyone how much he loves the kid. It’s gut wrenching to realize that Talan has quietly accepted coming in second. Talan hadn’t even fought them about Rotterdam because he’d known it was important for Oliver. 

Talan’s hair is too long and it falls on his face as he sleeps. Ryan watches him scrunch up his face before he moves a hand to shove it out of the way. 

Ryan’s never bothered with lists unless things were extra important. He doesn’t have paper or his phone on him and moving down to reach for his bag would wake up Tal. He understands that the first thing he needs to do is to get Talan back to therapy. Ryan knows he needs to crack down on bed time and meal times. There are four more weeks of summer and they leave for Costa Rica in a week. Ryan has a week to get Talan back to semi normal before they leave for vacation, before Talan tries to disappear into Oliver’s shadow again. 

The plane hits turbulence and Talan is startled awake. He jerks back and opens his eyes to stare at Ryan. 

“We there?” Talan asks yawning. 

“It’s been like half an hour.” Ryan explains, “No.” 

“Tired of planes.” Talan complains, dropping his head forward. “I wanna be home.”

“Few more hours.” Ryan reassures, “Maybe we can go run once we’re home.” 

Talan likes to run, it’s what he does to get out of his own head. 

“Maybe I go run.” Talan answers, “You slow me down.” 

“You’re scared I’ll be faster.” 

Talan rolls his eyes and puts his head back down against Ryan’s shoulder. He messily pushes his hair off his face again. 

“You need a haircut.” Ryan tells him, reaching over to hold Tal’s hair off his forehead, “How are you gonna surf in Costa Rica with that hair?” 

“It’s gonna look bad ass.” Talan argues.

They tend to focus a lot on what is wrong with Talan because they want him to be okay. Moments like this remind Ryan that Talan is still Talan. That he’s still their dorky too blond child who would spend every day of his life at the beach if he could. 

“How many boards can I bring with me?” Talan asks, “Cause like I think I might need five.” 

“You’re not bringing five surfboards.” Ryan shoots down quickly, “Bring one.” 

“You tell dad to bring just one golf club?” Talan argues back, “I can’t just have one.” 

“Not five.” Ryan stays firm, “You bring five, you don’t get on the plane ‘cuz they get your seat.” 

“At least three.” Talan counter offers, “Like that’s the…” He stops to search for his words, “Minimum.” 

“We’ll see how much they weigh.” 

“Like nothing.” Talan answers. 

“We’re not packing for Costa Rica for another week.” Ryan says, “We can figure it out when-” 

“Three.” Talan stays firm, “If not there’s no point.” 

“Glad to hear you’re stoked.” Ryan says instead of fuelling the argument. 

“Yeah I am.” Talan says easily, “I’m stoked to see the dogs.” 

Ryan knows that Talan needs time to do Talan things. Talan needs to be able to go running, to spend a full day getting sunburnt at the beach, to get in trouble with Brady, to clean his turtle’s tank and to lock himself up in Michael’s office and spend hours painting. 

“We’re gonna try getting you to therapy this week okay?” Ryan says carefully, “Start that again.” 

“Ok.” Talan frowns. 

“It’s okay that you need it.” Ryan tries to reassure, “It’s not okay your dad an me forgot.” 

“Like-” Talan stops to think, “It’s okay.” 

“No dude.” Ryan insists, “It’s not.” 

“Dude?” Talan shakes his head, “What?” 

“That we-” Ryan hesitates. 

“I get it.” Talan interrupts, “Like it’s… We’re gonna go home and it won’t be like… I’m not… Don’t worry.” 

Ryan thinks he might know what Talan’s referring to but chooses not to bring it up. Instead of finishing his thought, Talan takes his travel pillow from his backpack and squashes it against Ryan’s shoulder, leaning against him. 

“Your dad and me thought maybe you should go back twice a-” 

“Can you stop?” Talan says annoyed. “I said I’d go like don’t- It’s whatever. Stop talkin’ ‘bout it.” 

Talan takes his pillow and rests it against the other side of his headrest away from Ryan. He stays there for a minute trying to fall asleep before sighing in frustration and sitting back up straight. 

“I don’t like want people to know.” Talan admits, “Don’t make it a big deal. I didn’t want Brady to know and now it’s like everyone so-” 

“Ok.” Ryan cuts off Talan’s tirade. “Got it.” 

“Thank you.” Talan says with his voice still on edge. 

Ryan gives Talan a few minutes of silence to cool down. He glances over and sees that Talan is clutching the armrest of his seat and chewing on his lips. It takes a few seconds longer for Ryan to notice that Talan’s doing breathing exercises. 

“It’s just a plane ride Baby.” Ryan comforts, squeezing Tal’s shoulder, “I’m sorry come on relax.” 

“Tryin’ to.” Talan answers biting back words that would for sure get him grounded because not being able to be alone or to get quiet is stressing him out way more than talking about a stupid therapy session. 

Ryan can sense he’s annoying his youngest more than he’s helping so he goes quiet again. He plays with the screen in front of him, browsing through movies until he sees Talan relax back against his seat. 

“You should go for a run when we get home.” Ryan re-affirms. He knows it’s probably the quickest way to get Talan to decompress. 

“You’re gonna come with me?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan promises even though he hates running. Despite his earlier trash talk he knows he probably can’t keep up with Talan, “If you go easy on me.”

“F’you lemme bring three surfboards.” Tal says through a yawn. 

“Fine.” Ryan promises without talking to Michael about the weight restrictions of luggage, “Three.” 

His promise falls on deaf ears because Talan is already back asleep. A few minutes later he’s back leaning against Ryan. As the hours go by and their destination gets closer, Talan becomes warmer and heavier but Ryan doesn’t move. By the time the flight attendant walks back guiding seats and trays back to their original position he badly needs to pee but knows he’s out of luck. 

“Hey. Wake up.” Ryan moves his shoulder to nudge Talan’s head, “We’re landing.” 

Talan yawns and stretches, his hands almost touching the seat in front of them. He sleepily raises his head up from Ryan’s shoulder and leans over him to peer out the window. 

“Good.” Talan simply says. 

“We’ll be home in like an hour.” Ryan reaches forward to pull both of their bags from under the seats in front of them, “Make sure you got everything.” 

“Can we get pizza?” Talan asks, sitting back in his sleep, “Can we pick up the dogs right away? D’you think we’ll be home before dark? What’s Oliver doing?” 

“We’ll get pizza.” Ryan answers the easiest questions “We’ll get the dogs once we got our stuff home.” 

“Okay.” Talan nods along. 

“Do you want to call your dad?” Ryan offers, “I have to tell him we landed.”

“No.” Tal says off handedly. 

Talan’s relationship with Michael is something else Ryan knows he has to fix. He adds it to his mental Talan checklist and makes sure they haven’t left anything under in the seat in front of them. 

“I gotta move.” Talan complains, “fu-” 

Ryan raises an eyebrow.

“Sorry.” Talan backtracks, “I’m just like-” He jitters in place. 

“We can run to go play ball.” Ryan suggests.

“An’ run back?” Talan laughs, “You up for it?” 

Ryan feels like he needs to move himself, after a full day of plane rides he’s going stir crazy too. He sits back in his seat waiting for the plane to taxi to their gate. It’s late afternoon and while they wait for the door to open, Ryan sends Michael a text to tell him they’ve made it safe.

“They’re opening the door.” Talan clutches his backpack strap, “Let’s go!” 

“There’s people in front.” Ryan motions to the four rows of other first class passengers, most of who are standing up. One businessman near the front gives Tal a dirty look and Ryan has to fight the urge to flip him off.

“They let us off the plane first in New York.” Talan points out. 

“They let Oliver off the plane first.” Ryan answers, “We just went along with him.” 

Talan slouches back down in his seat with his backpack still on and sighs exaggeratedly. 

“Gonna be home soon baby.” Ryan tangles his fingers through Talan’s hair and rubs his head.

“Stop.” Talan ducks out from Ryan’s reach and brushes his hand through his hair to fix it back the way it was. 

*

They haven’t been home in two and a half weeks. Ryan has to dig through the bottom of his bag to find his keys and Talan sits down on his suitcase to watch him do it. 

“Is Miss C gonna be home?” Talan asks enquiring about their housekeeper, “D’you think she made me mac an cheese?” 

“No.” Ryan breaks the news, “She’s still on vacation.” 

“Oh.” Talan says clearly disappointed, “I miss her.” 

“She’ll be back when school starts.” Ryan reassures, his fingers closing on his key set, “We’ll order pizza.” 

The house is cool but smells musty. Their luggage stays in the front hallway while they walk into the kitchen. It’s unnaturally clean, empty and quiet but Talan still sits up on his usual kitchen stool and leans on the island counter. 

“You got time to run.” Ryan suggests gently. 

“Ok yeah.” Talan says, “I’m just gonna go-” He motions sideways with his hand, then straight and loops his fingers back around. 

“Take your phone.” Ryan laughs, “Watch out for cars.” 

“Cars gotta watch out for me.” Talan grins at Ryan before walking out of the kitchen. 

Ryan doesn’t have time to call out to Talan that it isn’t how traffic works before he hears the backdoor slam shut. He has to wait a few minutes before he can see Tal set off down the street at a fast pace Ryan know he probably can’t match for more than a few minutes. 

Instead, Ryan busies himself by ordering pizza and turning to face the small mountain of luggage left for abandon in the front hallway. He groans even though no one can hear him and decides that all unpacking, laundry and repacking for Costa Rica can wait until morning. 

Ryan is bone tired and jet lagged but instead of going to bed he walks back into the kitchen and takes out plates and checks the fridge for drinks. Usually he’d let Talan eat in his room or by the tv but if he’s trying to get Talan back to baseline normal he knows they need to start eating together. 

Once everything is sets he tries calling Michael but gets his voicemail, he looks at the clock and realizes that Oliver’s doing his first interview, he decides to call back later instead of leaving a message. 

The house is way too quiet with no dogs and no kids in it and Ryan dozes off on the couch while trying to set the television to record Oliver’s first late night interview. 

*

“So I’m like turning the corner.” Talan says loudly as he walks into the house. 

Ryan blinks awake. Talan is in bright yellow basketball shorts but not wearing a shirt, his curls are pushed off his forehead by an American flag bandana. He has three pizza boxes and two boxes of wings precariously balanced in his left hand. 

“And I see the pizza guy in our driveway just hanging out and I’m like dude he’s gonna walk out, so I book it like-” Talan moves his hand fast right in front of him, shuffling the pizza boxes around, “and I made it so you’re welcome. You don’t gotta hug me though I’m gross.” 

“Why’s there so much pizza?” Ryan asks confused. 

“I dunno, probs-” Talan peaks at one of the boxes for the receipt, “Like they went ‘you want the regular’ and you said yes an now we got pizza like dad and Ols were here.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan rubs a hand over his face, “I did that.” 

“We can do this?” Talan half-heartedly challenges. 

“No.” Ryan walks up to take the boxes away from his kid, “Go shower. You’re gross.” 

“I was running.” Tal says like it’s obvious, “An you said we’d shoot hoops so no point.” 

“Baby.” Ryan walks into the kitchen, Talan right behind him, “I’m tired.” 

“I’m not.” Talan exclaims, “You said-” 

“I know.” Ryan flips open the first pizza box and closes it once he sees it’s topped with toppings only Michael and Oliver eat. 

“Pineapples. Gross.” Talan pushes the box away. 

“Here’s cheese.” Ryan pulls two slices from the pie and puts them on Talan’s plate, “Eat here.” 

“You said shower.” Talan says while chewing his first mouthful of pizza, “Which one?” 

Ryan realizes he doesn’t have the energy for this. He may not even have the energy to chew. 

“Whatever Talan.” 

“You mad?”

“No.” Ryan regrets his choice of words, “I’m just tired.” He apologizes. 

“I’m going to eat my pizza.” Talan informs him. “Here.” 

“Good.” Ryan nods. 

*

With only the two of them, they barely make a dent in the food order. Ryan yawns while he puts pizza and wing boxes back into the fridge. They go to pick up the dogs at the kennel and Talan spends the ride back examining his French bulldog Hoops for signs of mistreatment and abuse. Hoops seems to be doing the same thing to Talan. 

“He smells weird.” Talan complains to Ryan, holding up the dog closer to his face. 

“You smell weird.” Ryan replies. 

“Well yeah, you didn’t gimme time to shower. Seriously though-” Talan holds Hoops up to Ryan who is rewarded by a dog paw swiping his cheek, “HE smells weird.” 

“Talan I’m driving.” Ryan points out. 

“They cut his nails weird.” Talan answers instead, carefully observing his dog’s paws, “Dude was it awful?” He asks him. 

Talan had found Hoops on their local animal rescue website and had instantly fallen in love. He’d presented the idea to them at dinner, showing off a handful of crumpled bills that would cover half of the adoption fee. He’d begged them to let him go first thing in the morning because the dog was for sure going to get adopted by some jerk before the end of the day. 

Ryan remembers Talan’s disappointed face when they’d told him no, that they had too many dogs already. 

“But none of them are mine.” Talan had argued, “Oliver has a dog.” 

Still, three dogs were enough they’d told him. 

Talan had come back from school the next day devastated because the little funny looking French bulldog had already been adopted. Just like he’d predicted.

“I called ‘em and they wouldn’t say who adopted him like who they know he went to someone who’s gonna love him.” He’d said disgusted to Ryan while he pushed away his after school snack. 

Michael had come back home just before dinner that night looking sheepish. 

“Where’s Tal?” He’d asked Ryan. 

“In his room hating his life.” Ryan had pointed out, “Dude maybe we should get him a dog.” 

“Okay.” Michael had held one hand up, “Keep that thought.” 

“No.” 

“He was crying over it.” Michael had replied looking pained, “And you know he’s gonna take care of him Ry.” 

“Where is it?” Ryan had cut him off resigned that they now had a fourth dog. 

“In the garage.” Michael had said relieved, “I’m gonna bring him up to him.” 

Ryan had followed Michael to the garage where the dog was running circles around their junk. 

“He has a lot of energy.” Michael had explained apologetically, “Kinda reminds me of Tal.” 

Talan hadn’t wanted to open his door or let them in and Michael was having more and more trouble keeping the dog still and quiet. 

“Talan.” Michael had put on his sternest voice, “I’m coming in.” 

Ryan had to admit that getting the dog had maybe been the best idea Michael had ever had. Talan had spent the weekend carrying the dog around and patiently teaching him to sit and give high fives. 

Talan loves Hoops more than anything else and Ryan knows he trusts no one else to take care of him. 

“He got massages Tal.” Ryan says exasperated because the boarding cost for the dogs had been almost the same as their hotel in Rotterdam. 

“He needs a bath.” Talan declares. 

“Good.” Ryan yawns and flicks on the windshield wipers by accident, “You can take one together.” 

It’s only eight p.m when they got home but Ryan is beat. 

“I’m gonna call your dad. Then I’m going to bed.” He tells Talan, “We’ll play basketball tomorrow, I’m so-” 

“Nah it’s okay.” Talan shrugs off his apology, “Tell dad I say hi. Tell Oliver Bert’s still a jerk.” 

“Okay.” Ryan doesn’t push Talan, “You should go to bed too.” 

“Maybe.” Talan shrugs. 

“Shower before.” Ryan advises. 

“Maybe.” Talan repeats. 

“Night dork.” Ryan says before walking towards the stairs aware that every dog that isn’t Hoops is hot on his trail. 

*

He gets into bed before dialing Michael and this time his husband answers. 

“How Ols?” Ryan asks trying not to yawn, “I’d stay up and watch but I’m too tired was he good?” 

“Yeah.” In the apartment in New York, Michael settles himself against a bed that’s hardly ever slept in, “He’s tired but it was good they stuck by the rules so-” 

Ryan doesn’t even roll his eyes at the mention of The Rules, a set of guidelines Michael had created before Oliver had sat down for his first interview. 

“He’s good?” Ryan asks again, more simply. 

“He’s getting sick.” Michael answers, “But it’s just a cold, I’ll keep an eye on it.” 

“S’he sleepin’?” 

“Yeah he’s passed out.” 

“Tal’s giving his dog a bath.” 

“He’s good?” Michael picks up Ryan’s question but his sounds more cautious. 

“Yeah like better than he was. We got home and-” Ryan snaps his fingers, “bam! Talan.” 

“D’you call his-” 

“Not yet.” Ryan admits, “Her office is closed and-” 

“Maybe he doesn’t need to go.” Michael says cautiously, “If he’s good.” 

“No.” Ryan is firm, “He has to go.” 

Michael doesn’t press the issue. He walks out to where Oliver is sleeping on the wide living room couch and debates waking him up or letting him sleep there. 

“If he’s sick you gonna get him checked out?” Ryan asks about Oliver, almost like he’s standing there next to Michael. 

“It’s just a cold.” Michael rationalizes, “He gets them on planes.” 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan yawns, “We’ll be there next week.” 

“You shoulda stayed.” Michael says quietly, “We miss you.” 

“Miss you too.” Ryan answers and for a second he’s frustrated that they’re separated again, that he’s in Florida instead of being with Oliver and Michael. 

“Go to bed. Tell Tal I say goodnight.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods, “Make sure Ols is good.” 

Ryan doesn’t remember hanging up but when he wakes up an hour later, the phone is off but still in his hand. Talan is standing by the edge of the bed on Michael’s side, showered and dressed in pajamas. 

“I’m not tired.” He tells Ryan. 

“Awesome.” Ryan mumbles, “Go to bed.” 

“Can I watch a movie?” Talan asks. 

“Yes.” Ryan turns over away from Talan. 

“In here?” Talan asks hopeful. 

“What’s up Tal?” Ryan regretfully turns back around to look at his youngest child, “There’s five other tvs.”

“The house’s like super quiet.” Talan says looking down, “S’freaking me out.” 

“You can watch a movie here.” Ryan offers the easiest solution, “Then go to bed.” 

“Ok deal.” Talan climbs up on the bed and leans against the backboard on Michael’s side of the bed. He grabs the remote and turns on the television. A second later Hoops has settled himself next to him. “I pick.” 

“Whatever,” Ryan yawns, “I sleep.” 

 

**New York**

“Ols.” 

Against his better judgment, Michael gently shakes Oliver awake. 

“Go to your bed Bud.” Michael tells Oliver when he blinks awake. “We gotta be up early.” 

Oliver has a five a.m. set call the next morning and Michael is already regretting half of the scheduled appearances they’d agreed to. 

Oliver nods and lumbers up, taking the couch throw with him. 

“Your dad says goodnight.” Michael adds, “Tal and him are gonna watch tomorrow.” 

Oliver nods again. 

“Are you feeling better?” 

Oliver shakes his head. 

“We’ll see how you feel tomorrow.” Michael offers feeling useless. He reaches to feel Oliver’s forehead but he doesn’t feel warm, “Night Bud.” 

“Night dad.” Oliver calls out before heading into his bedroom and closing the door. 

He sounds okay. 

*

Oliver’s time on Good Morning America doesn’t go well. He’d been slow to wake up and when he had decided to get out of bed his throat had been sore and his voice shot. The makeup artist had sighed at his bleary eyes and he’d complained that it hurt to talk. 

The host had been a middle aged woman who had asked about his girlfriend and other parts of his private life that had nothing to do with swimming or the Olympics. The teenage girls in the audience had been screaming too loudly. He’d spent most of the interview frowning.

Oliver is missing one of his medals because he’d forgotten to take it back from Talan in New York. While he doesn’t care about it’s whereabouts everyone else seems to and the questions and concerns over it are endless. 

“I just gave it to my brother.” He explains to the Good Morning America host. 

“What could your brother have done to deserve a gold medal?” She jokes, “I have a sister and I would never-” 

Oliver shrugs instead of answering because talking makes his throat hurts. He reaches up to rub his ear and misses the panicked glance the host shares with the show’s producer. 

It’s eight am when his GMA ordeal is over. Oliver wants to sleep but Michael brings to set medic into the green room instead. 

“Dad no.” Oliver ignores the woman in the navy blue uniform carrying a red duffel bag. 

“Hi!” She ignores his protest by using the most cheerful voice he’s ever heard anyone use before noon, “You’re not feeling well?” 

“I’m fantastic.” Oliver croaks sarcastically. 

“Ols.” Michael warns. 

Oliver doesn’t apologize. He narrows his eyes at Michael before turning back to face the EMT. 

“What’s your name?” She asks sitting next to Oliver on the couch.

Instead of answering her, Oliver gives Michael another pained look. 

“His name’s Oliver.” Michael answers for him. 

“I need him to answer my questions.” She tells Michael before refocusing on Oliver, “Oliver when did you start feeling sick?” 

“Before we got on the plane.” 

“Where were you flying from?” She opens her bag and pulls out a smaller case. 

“I don’t like needles.” Oliver says alarmed. 

“I don’t have them so we’re okay.” She reassures, she pulls out a pair of latex gloves instead “Where were you flying from.” 

“Netherlands.” Oliver answers. He painfully swallows and winces when it hurts his ears. 

“And your symptoms got worst? I’m just going to feel your neck alright, relax.”   
She checks his breathing, his heart rate, his ears and takes his temperature before slipping the gloves off. 

“He doesn’t have a fever.” She tells Michael, “It’s just a cold, get him some cough drops for his throat and a lot of fluids. If he develops a fever over 103 or he stops being able to swallow liquids bring him to the ER.” 

Michael nods attentively and thanks her as she leaves. 

“I’m not dying.” Oliver announces, “Happy?” 

“We’re going to cancel tonight.” Michael decides.

“No.” Oliver protests, “That’s the only one I wanna do like… Pace Chosen is there.” 

“Kid you’re sick.” Michael tells him, “That with the not being to breathe thing last week. I don’t feel good about-” 

“You swim nine golds and tell me how you’re breathing.” Oliver calls out, “I wanna do tonight.” 

“Oliver.” Michael tries to rationalize, “You’re sick. She said to rest.” 

“She’s not a doctor.” Oliver points out defiantly, “Who cares what she says.” 

“You don’t work if you’re sick.” 

“I swam with pneumonia.” Oliver argues, “It didn’t matter then-” 

“Because you lied about it!” Michael closes his eyes and counts to ten. He tries to understand for the ten thousandth time how a kid who’s biologically his could have inherited Ryan’s disregard for personal safety. “What happened the day after?” 

Oliver doesn’t answer. 

“You spent the night in the hospital hooked up to an IV and oxygen, you want that again?” 

“I wanna do the show.” Oliver says sounding a lot more like five than seventeen. “I can get a cab and go if I wanna I don’t need you I’m not a baby.” 

“You want to be treated like an adult Oliver act like one.” Michael snaps, “I’m here to take care of you. It’s my job.” 

“Cancel anything else.” Oliver offers, “Not this one.” 

“Bud.” Michael sighs.

“It’ll be fun.” Oliver begs, “I don’t get to like have fun.” 

Oliver uses the one line he knows usually wins him arguments. He knows that his dads feel guilty about how much he trains and works and how little time he’s had to be a kid. 

“You’re getting two weeks of fun.” Michael points out referring to Costa Rica, “Tonight’s work.” 

“I get to meet the swimsuit model tonight.” Oliver reminds him. “And the band.”

“What are you gonna do?” Michael raises an eyebrow, “Cough on her?”

Oliver chooses not to answer. 

“I’m not going to cancel.” Michael decides against his better judgment, “But if you’re not feeling any better by then it’s-” 

Oliver nods eagerly and sits up straighter. 

“We have time to go home.” Michael picks up Oliver’s bag, “We’ll get you Halls.” 

“Coffee.” Oliver says, “And a bagel from the good place.” 

“No.” Michael holds the door open for him, “I’m not standing in line and you need actual food. Protein and-” 

“I wanna bagel.” Oliver whines. “I don’t care from where.” 

“If only the supermodel could see you now.” Michael grabs the back of Oliver’s shirt and guides him forward. 

“Her name’s Kasey.” Oliver corrects him. “I’m not gonna cough on her.” 

 

**Florida**

Ryan wakes up with Bert head butting his face. 

“Dude.” Ryan pushes the black lab’s head away, “I’m not your dad try that on someone else.” 

It’s eleven though and Ryan figures he better let the dogs out in the backyard before one of them has an accident in the house. 

The television at the other end of the room is still turned on and paused on the credits of the movie Talan had watched the night before. Talan’s glasses are on Michael’s pillow but he’s nowhere to be seen. 

“Alright come on.” Ryan gets out of bed and motions for the dog to follow him, “Let’s go out.” 

He stops by Talan’s room on his way down the stairs; Talan is wrapped in a cocoon of blankets with his pillow over his head. 

“Yo dork!” Ryan calls out, “It’s eleven. Get up.” 

Talan doesn’t move or make a noise. Hoops’ head perks up when he hears the other dog and he wiggles free from under Talan’s legs to come join the pack. 

“Ten minutes.” Ryan calls out. “Then I’m coming back.” 

Ryan lets the dogs out and turns back into the kitchen to make coffee. He keeps an eye on the time on the microwave. Once ten minutes have gone by and the coffee is ready, Ryan lets the dogs back in and heads upstairs again. 

“Baby.” He says knocking on the door. “Get up.”

“No.” Talan grumbles, “M’tired.” 

“Yeah you’re jetlagged.” Ryan answers.“Get up.” 

“No.” Talan says again, 

“You can have coffee.” Ryan bribes, “Offer’s good for five minute. Come on.” 

Ryan waits a few seconds to see if Talan moves.

“Five minutes for coffee Talan.” He repeats, “You can’t sleep all day.”

Ryan isn’t exactly sure how Talan got hooked on coffee and he’s certain that feeding into a fifteen year old’s caffeine addiction isn’t the best parenting move of all times but he still takes a ninja turtle mug from the cupboard and fills it up before putting it down beside Tal’s usual spot. 

Talan lumbers downstairs in boxers with his hair still held up by the bandana. He’s wearing an old camo print comforter like a toga. 

“Yeah dad.” Ryan imitates Talan when he walks into the kitchen, “I’m not jet lagged it’s fine like… I’m not tired.” 

“I don’t sound like that.” Talan shakes his head at him before sitting down on one of the stools by the counter, “Like at all.” 

“Sure.” Ryan laughs. He pushes the coffee cup towards Talan, “It’s yours.” 

“Yes.” Talan cries out victorious. He reaches for the sugar and pours a generous amount in. 

“One cup.” Ryan reminds him, “Enjoy it.” 

Talan quietly drinks his coffee for a few minutes before he speaks again. 

“Can you make me a grilled cheese?” Talan asks 

“We got no food.” Ryan apologizes, “I can do cold pizza.” 

“No.” Talan takes another sip, “I don’t want pizza.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “Finish that up, go change and we’ll go get food.” 

When Talan walks back downstairs ready to go, he’s wearing a pair of worn out camo short and a t-shirt that has more holes than Ryan cares to count. 

“Go put clothes that don’t make you look homeless.” Ryan demands. 

“The thing’s like-” Tal hovers in the middle of the living room. 

“What’s up Talan?” 

“Like I grew?” Talan moves his hands apart, “So I dunno nothing I got fits, most of Ols’ stuff’s too small.” 

“That why you packed nothing for Rotterdam?” Ryan begins to understand, “Baby we can afford to buy you clothes.” 

“My shoes hurt too.” Talan points out, “If I wear Ols’ he’ll be mad.” 

“We’ll get you shoes too.” Ryan adds, “Where d’you wanna go?” 

“I dunno.” Talan shrugs, “Target?” 

Oliver would have had an entirely different answer; he would have known which store, which brand, which specific items of clothing to get. 

“Target?” Ryan says skeptically, “We can start there yeah.” 

“They got a Starbucks.” Talan says hopefully. 

“No way.” Ryan grabs his car keys from the side table and motions for Tal to head to the front door, “One cup. That’s it.” 

*

Target is thankfully pretty deserted on a Wednesday morning. Ryan grabs a basket and has to fight back to habit of telling Tal to hold onto it. 

“Look.” He says once they’re inside, “Make it easy. I’ll go look for food, you look for clothes. If you’re gonna wear it without complaining take it.” 

“Easy.” Talan answers. 

“Exactly.” Ryan looks at his watch, “Meet you back in twenty.” 

Not even five minutes later, Talan meets Ryan in the cereal aisle. He’s holding one pair of cargo shorts and two t-shirts. 

“I’m done.” He declares. He dumps the three items in the cart before peeking at the food Ryan’s chosen, “I want the fake chicken nuggets.”

“You’re gonna wear one pair of shorts?” Ryan asks even though he knows the logic will be lost on his youngest, “For the next three weeks you’re gonna wear one pair of shorts and two t-shirts?” 

“I don’t like need more.” Talan says puzzles. 

“Yeah you do.” Ryan sighs, he puts the boxes of cereal he’s holding into the cart and turns around to wheel back to the clothing department, “Did you try on those shorts?” 

“No.” 

“How d’you know they fit?” 

“They look like they fit?” Talan answers like it’s obvious. 

“You spend too much time with your dad.” Ryan reaches into the cart and flips the tag on the shorts to see the size, “Talan you’re not a 36. I’m not a 36. You’re 28 max, the other shorts were kid sizes.”

“Then trade sizes.” Once they’re at the rack, Talan looks for a smaller size and switches them out from the cart.

“No you have to try them on.” Ryan insists, “Come on.” 

Talan looks like he’s been asked to run a triathlon. He grabs the shorts from Ryan and drags his feet towards the dressing room. 

“Here.” Ryan hands him a pair of boardshorts and a few more t-shirts, “You’re gonna need a new rash guard too but they don’t have that here. Actually-” He takes the boardshorts out of Talan’s hands, “You’re gonna need better board shorts-”

“What’s wrong with these?” 

“We’ll get you something better.” Ryan repeats. “Go try it on.”

“You’re not coming in with me.” Talan says pointedly, “Wait here.” 

“No I’m gonna wait there.” Ryan points to a chair near the change rooms. 

Talan sighs and rolls his eyes and flips his hair off his face dramatically.

“Faster you get it done, the faster we can go eat.” Ryan bribes, “Go.” 

While he waits for Talan to get changed, Ryan looks for a video of Oliver’s Good Morning America interview. He sends a text to Michael but doesn’t get an answer back.

“Tal.” He knocks on the change room door, “Come out.” 

“No.” Talan says outraged, “They fit.” 

“Talan.” Ryan puts a hand on the change room door, “You come out or I come in.” 

“Don’t come in!” Talan says outraged. 

A second later, Ryan hears the door unlock and Talan steps out in the cargo shorts. 

“They look good!” Ryan says enthusiastically, like they’re talking about a three-piece suit and not a pair of shorts that looks like every other pair already in Talan’s closet. “Do they fit okay?” 

He pushes Talan’s shirt up and tugs at the waistband. 

“Da-ad.” Talan says mortified, pulling his shirt back down. “Stop.” 

“You feel good in it?”

“Yes."

“You’ll wear ‘em?”

“Can I get changed now?” Talan asks. 

“Try the t-shirts on.” Ryan requests, “It’s not going to kill you.” 

Ryan doesn’t ask Tal to show him the t-shirts and takes his word that they fit. He grabs the clothes that fit Talan and carries them back out of the fitting rooms. 

“Let’s go eat.” Ryan says, “Then we’ll go get you the rest of the stuff.”

“The rest?” Talan says discouraged, “I just tried on like-” 

“You need swimsuits.” Ryan knows Talan won’t be caught dead in any of the jammers and briefs Speedo still sends them, “Probably a wet suit, rash guard, shirts, pants, a suit-”

“A suit?” 

“Might want to look sharp in Costa Rica Baby.” Ryan informs him, “Oh underwear.” 

“What?” 

“Underwear.” Ryan points to the racks of men’s underwear, “Do you have enough?” 

“DAD.” Talan says through his teeth, glancing around the still deserted aisles. 

“You don’t gotta be embarrassed Baby.” Ryan fights back laughter, “Boxers?” 

Talan refuses to answer. 

“Maybe you should get boxer briefs.” Ryan holds up a package, “They fit-”

“DAD.” 

“Try ‘em out.” Ryan starts looking at the sizes on the packs, “They support-” 

“Dad stop.” Talan manages two words. 

“Everyone wears underwear Tal.” Ryan tosses two packs for Talan, “D’you want some boxers in case you don’t like the new ones?”

“No I’m fine.” Talan answers quickly, he watches Ryan throw another pack in, “I don’t need more!” 

“Those are for your dad.” Ryan reassures. 

“Don’t mix ‘em up with mine!” Talan says horrified, “Gross come on.” 

“Gross.” Ryan laughs, “This seriously isn’t as bad as-” 

“Yeah.” Talan says dead serious, “It is.”

Talan walks ten feet behind Ryan until they get to the cash and he blushes when the elderly cashier scans his underwear through. 

“I’m ready to go back to bed.” Talan complains once they’re back out into the parking lot. 

“No way.” Ryan hands Talan two bags out of the basket, “We gotta get you more clothes.” 

Talan answers with a pained noise.

“We can start with the surf stuff.” Ryan says to encourage him, “After food.” 

“I want a grilled cheese.” Talan demands, “And to not talk about my underwear.” 

“I can do that.” Ryan promises. 

 

**New York**

 

“Drink this.” Michael hands Oliver a paper cup, “It’ll make your throat feel better.” 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head. His voice is hoarse, “swallowing my spit hurts.” 

“Yeah.” Michael keeps holding out the tea, he looks at the cold medication and the empty Halls wrappers on the table by the couch. “I got nothing for that.” 

“How much longer can I sleep?” Oliver asks, pulling his designer suit jacket over his head. 

“An hour probably.” 

“Mmkay.” Oliver mumbles. 

Michael once again feels useless. He regrets his decision to not cancel. He puts the cup of tea on the coffee table and dumps the packets of honey beside it. He reaches down to feel Oliver’s forehead. He’s warmer than before.

“You have a fever.” He says alarmed, “Ols wake up.” 

Oliver pushes Michael’s hand off his forehead and burrows further under his jacket. 

It’s too late to pull Oliver out of this interview without major problems and Michael knows even Oliver wouldn’t be happy about the decision. 

Oliver had wanted to do this interview but he is too busy sleeping in his green room to go spy on sound check or hang out in the hallway to meet anyone else. Michael had run into the band on his way back from getting tea and he’d felt old. The band hadn’t known him and he hadn’t known who they were minus the three songs Oliver always listened to on his way back from practice. Making awkward small talk with them had made him feel like a dad.

“Stop dad.” Oliver says softly, “I’ll drink the tea.”

“I’ll make sure you have some out there.” Michael reassures, “Put some honey in it. Save your voice.” 

Oliver nods and winces down a few sips of the hot liquid. 

“I’m going to cancel what you’re doing tomorrow.” Michael decides out loud, “Give you a day off.” 

Oliver looks at him pained. 

“You’re sick Ols. You shouldn’t even be here-” 

“I gotta do this one!” Oliver breaks his thirty seconds long vow of silence. “Please.” 

“Take more cold medication.” Michael picks up the pack from the table and flips it over to check out the symptoms it covers, “You got an hour to sleep.” 

Michael has to wake Oliver up a half hour later when a frazzled looking PA frantically knocks on the door for him. 

“I feel better dad.” Oliver tries to sound convincing, “My voice sounds better.” 

Waiting for his turn to go on set, Oliver sits down on the floor, leans against the wall and downs pack after pack of honey. 

“You haven’t been drinking anything.” Michael frets, “You only ate half a bagel.” 

Oliver nods and Michael knows Oliver is only pretending to be doing better. He reaches to feel his son’s forehead again and Oliver feels warmer than before. 

“Two hours you’re home in bed.” Michael comforts. 

Oliver gives him a thumb up. 

* 

“So you’ve had a busy few weeks!” Jimmy Fallon asks Oliver, “For people who haven’t been on earth let me just sum up your accomplishments…” 

Oliver smiles and looks down. 

“Nine gold medals –more than anyone in a single game. But you got seven world records?” 

“Something like that yeah.” Oliver laughs. “I slacked off a few times.” 

“And now you’re back home and you’re being dragged all over the place. We’re happy you’re here.” 

“Me too.” Oliver tries not to sound overeager. 

“Because you’re sick.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver admits, “I don’t usually sound like this.” 

“You’ve gone through puberty you mean?”

“Yeah.” Oliver laughs.

“So you’re really not feeling well?” 

“I’m okay.” Oliver smiles, “Just my voice.”

“Because your dad tried to get you out sick.” 

“Yeah he did. We got in a fight.”

“You wanted to be here?” 

“Yeah!” Oliver leans forward, “My brother and I watch this all the time.”

“That’s amazing man. Thank you! Now I heard that you’re starting at Harvard this fall? Is there anything you’re bad at?” 

“My social life?” Oliver answers without missing a beat, “I don’t really have spare time so-” 

“I’m sure we can change that for you, did you get to meet Kasey White backstage?” 

“No.” Oliver looks down at his shoes, “I didn’t want to cough on her or-” Oliver’s voice gives out and he reaches for the cup of tea Michael had made sure was in front of him. He winces as he swallows. 

“So how long have you been swimming?” 

“Since I was a baby.” Oliver answers and his voice is stronger, “But competitively? I started when I was six. It was just for fun, there was never really any pressure to-” 

“Nine gold medals. No pressure. Can we cut to that last race?” 

Oliver watches himself swim for the wall and watches the cameras focus away from the pool on Talan’s face. 

“How did that feel man?” Jimmy asks when the footage cuts to Oliver on the podium. 

“I was really tired.” Oliver admits, “I was stoked to go home.” 

“By winning that ninth medal you did something no one else has done before- You beat the record by-” 

“Michael Phelps.” Oliver grins. “Yeah.”

“And you know him right? Michael and you you’re pretty close?” 

“You can say that.” Oliver laughs, “We talk sometimes.” 

“Well, it might be a bit of a shock.” Jimmy Fallon pauses dramatically, “but Michael Phelps is here tonight.” 

“No way.” Oliver says in mock surprise, “What?” 

“Yes. Please welcome twenty-two times Olympic medalist Michael Phelps.” 

Michael walks on set and takes a seat on the chair next to Oliver. 

“You’re his dad.” 

“Yes.” Michael doesn’t even bother to joke. He pretends to mess up Oliver’s hair to see if Oliver’s fever has gotten worst. Under the set lights Oliver is burning up. 

“Did you ever think to not put him in swimming to keep your records safe? To I don’t know, have him try out for baseball?” 

“I played football.” Oliver chimes in. 

“We taught both our kids to swim to be safe and-” 

“Wait you have another kid who swims? Is he going to come out in four years and win ten gold medals?” 

“No, I think Talan’s not going to-”

“He beat me once.” Oliver interrupts Michael, “He’s good he just-”

“Wait, he beat you?” 

“One time.” Oliver specifies, “But yeah.” 

“What are you running back home?” Jimmy Fallon turns to Michael, “Some kind of super human swimming school?” 

“They’re both pretty human.” Michael jokes, “I mean I think.” 

“Thanks.” Oliver shoots off. 

“But you’re retired right?” Jimmy Fallon asks Oliver, “You’re done swimming?” 

“For now yeah.” Oliver admits, “I did it now I wanna do other things.” 

“You’re what eighteen?”

“Seventeen.” Oliver corrects

There isn’t much time left until the commercial break and Michael spends most of it focused on Oliver instead of joking back and forth with the host. Oliver is eager and a good sport but Michael notices that his answers get shorter and shorter and that he grimaces every time he swallows. Once they’ve been counted down to break he leads Oliver backstage. 

“Ok I don’t feel good.” Oliver admits once it’s just the two of them and a production assistant, “Like really not.

“We have an EMT on site, I can send him to your green room.” The PA offers. 

“Yes.” Michael agrees because he knows an EMT will have a thermometer. He pulls Oliver towards their green room at a brisk pace, trying to get him somewhere cool and quiet as fast as possible. 

“Stop.” Oliver hangs back a step and pulls on Michael’s shirt.

“What’s wrong?” 

Oliver wobbles forward and Michael catches him just in time.

“Hey.” Michael grabs Oliver by the shoulder, “Oliver!” 

Michael instantly regrets where they are. Hates that he went against his better judgment and made his sick child work. 

“Sorry.” Oliver doesn’t pass out, he closes his eyes and reaches up to rub both his hands against the side of his face, pressing against his ears. 

“I’ll go grab the EMT.” The PA says panicked. 

The EMT gets there in less than thirty seconds, so quick that Michael is still holding onto Oliver. 

“We’re going to have you sit down.” The show’s paramedic instructs before he takes hold of Oliver’s elbow. “Can you tell me your name?”

“I’m okay.” Oliver pulls his elbow away. 

Oliver doesn’t keep talking. He lets the paramedic guide him down to the floor and sits with his eyes closed. Michael kneels in front of him and immediately pushes Oliver’s jacket off his shoulder before loosening his tie. 

“What happened before you felt like you were going to faint Oliver?” The EMT asks.

“Just hot.” Oliver answers. 

“Did you hit your head anywhere?” 

“No he didn’t fall.” Michael answers for Oliver, “He wasn’t feeling well this morning but we thought it was just a cold so we-” 

“His lymph nodes are swollen.” The EMT says as soon as he starts to palpate Oliver’s neck. 

“Can you take his temperature?” Michael requests, “We’re going to the ER I just-” 

“Dad no.” Oliver shakes his head. 

“You’re sick.” Michael interrupts his son’s protests, “It’s not a choice.” 

“Fever’s 102.” The medic tells Michael. “He doesn’t need an ambulance but the car can take you to whichever hospital.” He reaches into his bag for an instant cold pack. He shakes it before pressing it to the back of Oliver’s neck, “He might need fluids.”

“A car. Sinai.” Michael answers briskly. He kneels next to Oliver and holds the icepack up. 

“No.” Oliver whines. He grabs the backpack and brings it to his throat instead. 

“Yes.” Michael affirms. 

“Dad.” Oliver tries to look dead serious, “I don’t need-” 

“You just passed out.” 

“I didn’t.” Oliver argues. 

“It’s how you’re gonna feel better today.” Michael comforts, “They can make your throat stop hurting.” 

Oliver makes a frustrated noise and doesn’t move to stand up. 

* 

At the hospital, Michael has to explain Oliver’s symptoms four times and four times over he gets to feel like a negligent parent. Oliver refuses to talk and eyes anyone who walks into his curtained off ER examination room with distrust. 

“They’re not going to start an IV.” Michael reassures him, “No needles. Promise.” 

“I don’t wanna sleep here.” Oliver whispers in response. 

“Let’s just see what the doctor says.” 

“Call Dad.” Oliver asks. 

Michael calls Ryan and Ryan keeps Oliver busy while Michael goes off to find some ice for Oliver to eat and to hunt down whichever nurse was responsible for getting the doctor. 

Oliver is sleeping when he gets back to the room but Ryan is still on the line. 

“How long’s he been sleeping?” Michael asks picking up the phone from beside Oliver’s head. 

“Five minutes. How high was his fever?” 

“It was 103 when we got here, now it’s at 100. They gave him something for it-” 

“Did they run tests?” Ryan asks concerned, “He got sick super fast.” 

“No.” It’s the only part of this experience that’s comforting to Michael, “They think it’s strep throat we’re waiting for a doctor.” 

“That sucks, poor Gator.” 

“Yeah, I cancelled the rest of his interviews.” Michael pulls the blanket that’s over Oliver down a bit, not wanting his temperature to go back up. “Thought we could leave for Costa Rica sooner-” 

“Want us in New York?” 

“Yeah.” 

“We can catch a flight tomorrow. We just need to pack.” In Florida, Ryan looks at the suitcases still packed for Rotterdam and sighs discouraged. 

Oliver stirs awake and pulls the blanket back up over him. Michael rubs his leg. 

“They keeping him overnight?” 

“He wants to go home.” Michael answers, “So-” 

“He’s not making that decision.” Ryan warns. 

“Would you have let him do that interview?” Michael asks Ryan guiltily. 

“No.” Ryan answers, “I woulda brought him home.” 

“I’m sorry Ry.” Michael means it. He knows this isn’t one of his stellar parenting moments. He understands that he should have made sure Oliver was safe and healthy before making sure Oliver was happy. 

“It’s okay.” Ryan says without anger, “He’s gonna be good.”

“How’s Tal?” Michael asks to change the subject. 

“We went clothes shopping, he’s tramotized.” 

“He’s gonna miss his therapy appointments if you come here early.” Michael rubs a hand over his face, “I didn’t think-” 

“He’ll be okay.” Ryan assures even though he’s not sure himself, “Tough kid, he’ll surf out his problems. We got him a new wetsuit.” 

“What colour?” 

“Bright orange, he looks like a parking cone. We’ll see him from the beach.”

Talking to Ryan is comforting and Michael gets lost in the conversation. He knows Ryan has to pack and get Talan to bed but he selfishly keeps him on the line until the doctor finally walks into the room. 

Three hours after their arrival an ER doctor diagnoses Oliver with strep throat and writes him a prescription for antibiotics and a numbing throat spray. 

*

Michael had had plans to go out that night, to go have drinks with friends he knew in New York. He forgets his plans until they’re home and he’s given Oliver his first dose of antibiotics. 

“I’m sorry you can’t go out.” Oliver says. 

Michael has ordered soup from the deli across the street and more bagels and really anything he thought would be soft enough for Oliver to eat without too much pain. 

“Don’t worry.” Michael dismisses, “I’m just glad you got to come home. Eat your soup.” 

Oliver takes three sips of a spoonful before committing to a full one. 

“I’ll be good if you wanna go.” Oliver tries, “I’m just gonna sleep.”

“You come first Ols.” Michael brushes off his suggestion, “Come on eat more.” 

Oliver takes another spoonful of just broth, deciding that the noodles and carrot chunks would cause far too much pain to bother with. He finishes the rest of the broth under Michael’s watchful eyes and hands him the cardboard container. 

Michael takes the cup away and feels Oliver’s forehead at the same time. 

“You’re still really warm.” Michael says worriedly. 

“I’m cold.” Oliver complains. 

Michael wishes Ryan was there because Ryan’s good at handling sick kids. Michael can’t remember what you’re suppose to do to lower a fever and it’s too late to call up Debbie in Baltimore, he doesn’t want to worry her. 

“Does it still hurt a lot?” Michael asks.

Oliver nods before slumping down on the couch to lean against Michael. 

“I’m sorry Bud.” Michael says powerless to make him feel better, “Want some ice cream?” 

Oliver shakes his head no. 

Michael flicks the television on and flips through channels until he finds a movie he knows Oliver likes. They watch in silence until Oliver’s phone beeps. 

“Is that Talan?” 

“No.” Oliver actually answers. He smiles at his screen and sends a message. 

“Who is it?” Michael asks even if he knows the odds of Oliver answering him are slim. 

“Kasey White.” Oliver whispers proudly, “Wants to know if I feel better.” 

This side of Oliver reminds Michael of Ryan. He forgets for a second that Ryan has never dated models but that he had. 

“How did she get your number?” Michael tries to peer at the screen to see what a nineteen year old model would be texting his seventeen-year-old dork. 

“I gave it to a PA.” Oliver smirks even though his voice is so quiet Michael has to mute the volume to hear him, “To give to her.” 

“That’s kind of impressive.” Michael has to admit, “She’s nineteen though Ols.” 

Oliver shrugs and moves further from Michael to keep texting. 

“Don’t send her pictures.” Michael warns. 

Oliver makes a disgusted face at him before getting up and pointing to his bedroom. 

“If you feel really bad wake me up okay?” Michael tells him, “I’ll come give you more Advil. Night Bud.” 

Oliver waves goodnight with the hand that’s holding onto his phone and Michael knows he’s being ditched for a supermodel. He waits until he hears Oliver’s bedroom door close to call Ryan again. 

 

**Florida**

Talan doesn’t want to go to New York early. 

“No.” Talan answers when Ryan tells him the news, “I got a week here you said.” 

“It changed.” Ryan tries to plead; “We’re going to Costa Rica early.” 

“I wanna stay here.” Talan replies. 

“We’ll go buy sneakers.” Ryan bribes, “Go for good pizza. Just you an me, come on Baby.” 

“No.” Talan doesn’t change his mind, “I got like plans and you said I had to go to stupid therapy and now it’s like- No? Cause he’s sick.” 

“We can go to Costa Rica sooner.” Ryan tries again, “You can surf.” 

“You asked what I wanna do and I say go back home and now it don’t matter?” Talan says angrily, “Whatever. It’s fucking retarded.” 

“Woah.” Ryan cautions, “I’m not swearing at you.”

“I don’t care about shoes or pizza or whatever.”

Before Ryan can reply, Talan has stormed out of the kitchen and into the backyard. Ryan waits, hoping to hear the sound of a basketball being thrown against the side of the house but he’s just met with silence. 

He gives Talan space and starts packing instead. Michael and Oliver have already packed and he wheels both their suitcases to the front door before going into the garage to grab Michael’s golf clubs. On his way back upstairs, he takes the bags of clothes they’d bought for Talan and brings them to Talan’s room putting them in his already half packed suitcase. 

Once Ryan’s finished packing his own suitcase and Talan isn’t back he starts to worry. It’s dark out and he doesn’t like to think of Talan running by the side of the road where drivers can’t see him. 

Ryan grabs his car keys, ready to go drive looking for Talan when he loops back around the house to make sure the backdoor is locked and spots his son sitting cross legged on a pool chair. 

“Dude, I was gonna go out driving lookin’ for you.” Ryan reproaches, sitting down on the chair next to Tal, “Don’t do that.” 

The backyard is dark but Ryan still sees Talan shrug. He also sees the beer can between Talan’s crossed legs. 

“Talan.” He sighs disappointed, “We’ve talked about this.” 

“It’s not open.” Talan claims, handing the can to Ryan for proof, “I changed my mind.” 

“I get you’re mad-” Ryan starts. 

“I’m not mad.” Talan snaps. “It’s just not fair.”

Talan has a point. Ryan rolls the beer can against the ground with his foot thinking of what to say. His silence is long enough for Talan to start talking again. 

“I like when we buy shoes and go out for pizza ‘an stuff but like you said we were stayin’ here.” 

“I know.” Ryan empathizes, “We’re not going to New York, we’re going to Costa Rica and Costa Rica’s for you.” He reminds him. 

“I’m not mad.” Talan repeats, “Just like things keep changing and no one asks me.” 

“That’s true.” Ryan agrees, “But you get that you win right? Five more days of surfing.” 

Talan nods. 

“Dad an me knows it’s not fair.” Ryan threads carefully, “And we’re really sorry-” 

“It’s okay.” Talan dismisses Ryan’s apology, “I get it.” 

“It’ll be about you soon.” Ryan promises. 

The mosquitos are awful and Ryan slaps three away from the side of his face and from Talan’s leg before he gets up and motions for Talan to head back inside. 

“The beer thing though.” Ryan holds up the can once they’re in the light of the kitchen, “That stops right now. Next time I tell your dad.” 

“Okay.” Talan says wide eyed, “I didn’t drink it I was just like…” 

“You’re fifteen.” Ryan reminds him, “No drinking.” 

“Yeah. I’m sorry.” Talan nods in agreement, “Okay.” 

“Go pack.” Ryan waves him off, “Just empty the shopping bags in your suit-”

“I need my golf clubs.” Talan cuts in, “Dad said we’d go golfing.”

“You have three surfboards.” 

“Dad said.” Talan insists. 

“No.” Ryan puts his foot down, “Three surfboards or the golf clubs.” 

“That’s like… Way unfair.” 

Talan’s decision is easy though, half an hour later his surfboards are packed in their bag and resting against the front entrance wall with his bright green suitcase. He crashes down beside Ryan on the couch holding out his phone. 

“Ols is talking to Kasey White.” He announces awed, “Like the model.” 

“Wanna stay up to watch his interview?” Ryan offers. 

“Yeah.” Talan pats the spot next to him and Hoops jumps up. “Thanks.” 

Talan is asleep against the arm of the couch five minutes into the opening monologue. His feet are on Ryan’s lap and Hoops is snoring by his chest. 

Michael’s call comes just as Kasey White is being introduced. 

“So that’s the chick texting our kid?” Ryan answers without saying hello. 

“What?” 

“That model-” 

“Yeah, he got a PA to give her his number.” 

“That’s baller.” Ryan says impressed, “What’s she saying to him?” 

“I don’t know. He went to bed.” 

“How’s he feeling? If his fever’s still high you can give him Advil an like Tylenol just switch up ever four hours. Just to make him feel better, like if he’s not eating.” 

“Twenty-four hours for the antibiotics to kick in. I’ll go check on him in a few.” 

“Did he eat?” 

“No.” Michael decides not to count the half-cup of broth as a meal, “His throat hurts.”

“Milkshake.” Ryan suggests, “Maybe we got protein powder still.” 

“I’ll ask him when I give him more Tylenol.”

“Don’t wake him up. If he wakes up give him more. Let him sleep.”

On television, Kasey White walks off stage and commercials roll. Ryan hits Talan’s foot to wake him up. 

“Ols is next.” He calls out. 

“Is Tal okay with coming here early?” Michael asks.

“Yeah.” Ryan chooses to not share the evening’s dramatics, “He’s stoked.” 

“Is that dad?” Talan asks, “Can I bring my golf clubs?” 

“Your kid wants to know if you can buy an extra seat on the plane for his golf clubs?” 

“I’ll rent him golf clubs.” 

“You’re getting rentals.” Ryan relays the message. 

Talan makes a noise of protest and pushes a foot against Ryan’s leg. Before he can form an argument the commercial break ends and Oliver is walking to his seat. 

“He looks bad.” Talan says before anyone, “Like sh-” 

“That’s twice Talan.” Ryan says unimpressed, “But yeah he looks-” 

“Hey.” Oliver’s voice booms across the sound system. 

“You let him do this?” Ryan exclaims bewildered, “Mike…” 

“I know.” Michael answers, “I shouldn’t have.” 

“It’s so cool he’s there.” Talan sits up straighter, “Can I talk to Oliver?” 

“He’s sleeping Baby.” Ryan replies without checking with Michael, “You can talk to him tomorrow.” 

“Does he need his medal back? Cause I’m kinda sick of havin’ to worry ‘bout it.” 

“Leave it there.” Michael answers through the phone, “Ry just put me on speaker.” 

Ryan puts his phone down balancing it close to Talan’s foot. 

“Hi dad.” Talan says.

“Hey Baby.” Michael’s voice softens, “We have good bagels waiting.” 

“My new wetsuit’s orange.” Talan fills him in, “You’ll see me from like space.” 

“Your dad said.” In New York Michael smiles. 

“Hey!” Talan cries out when Michael walks on set, “You got to be on too, that’s cool.” 

“He looks brutal Mike.” Ryan groans watching Oliver’s last few minutes.

“He should be better by tomorrow. By the time you get here. He’ll be good by the time we’re on the beach.” 

Ryan says goodbye and hangs up when Oliver’s interview wraps up and Talan starts to nod off again. 

“Go to bed.” Ryan tells Talan flicking his foot to wake him up, “Take your dog.” 

Talan yawns and checks his phone. 

“Yeah night.” He gets up and stretches, “Stoked to try on the new underwear tomorrow.” He adds sarcastically. 

“Night dork.” Ryan switches the channel before turning off the television. “I’ll be up in a few.” 

“I’ll know if you take out a surfboard.” Talan warns. “Don’t do it.” 

“I’ll come say goodnight. Go to bed.”

Ryan watches Talan walk up the stairs before he does one more check on the luggage by the door. They don’t leave for New York until mid afternoon but with their susceptibility to missing flights he’d rather make sure they have everything. 

The only thing missing from the pile is Talan’s backpack and satisfied, Ryan turns off all the lights on the main floor, locks the doors and turns on the alarm. 

Talan is sitting up in bed waiting for him. Hoops is curled up at the foot of the bed but Oliver’s dog Bert has been relegated to the floor. 

“He takes up too much room.” Talan explains, “He squooshes Hoops.”

“He’s gonna be yours when Ols is at Harvard.” Ryan predicts, “Maybe get used to it.” 

“Ugh.” Talan rolls his eyes before patting his bed, “Up you jerk.” 

Bert jumps up on the bed and Talan points to the foot of it while picking up Hoops and resting the smaller dog against his pillow. 

“Is Oliver like really sick?” Talan says worriedly, “He looked really bad.” 

“They gave him antibiotics, he’s gonna be okay.” Ryan reassures, “Pack you backpack when you wake up okay?” 

“Yeah.” Talan points to a pile of disorganized things on top of his disorganized desk, “It’s done.” 

“Sleep.” Ryan urges, “Really.” 

“Really.” Talan repeats. “Good night.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fanfiction not the gospel truth. 
> 
> If you don't like it pretend it doesn't exist.

**Daytona Beach, Florida**

“Go get dressed.” 

It’s the first thing Ryan thinks to say to Talan when the latter walks into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and a Gators tank top Ryan is sure is left over from his days at UF. 

“These are clothes.” Talan answers back looking down at his outfit like maybe he’d made a mistake and walked down the stairs naked, “Like yeah.” 

It’s six am and Ryan is short on patience. There is a mountain of luggage by the front door and the car to the airport is already late. 

“Are you wearing underwear?” 

“That’s not an okay questions.” Talan turns around from looking at the contents of the empty fridge. 

“Talan.”

“What does baking soda taste like?” 

“Talan I’m not joking.” Ryan says his voice harsh, “Go change. Get your backpack. We’re late.” 

“The car’s here?” Talan closes the fridge and opens the freezer, “We got breakfast burritos!” He announces triumphantly turning back around to show them to Ryan. 

Ryan knows that this scene would make his mother cry with laughter. He has long since accepted that in the cosmic scheme of things, he’s earned every single ridiculous moment of Talan’s life. He’s sure that he’s worn Talan’s exact outfit on countless flights. 

“Talan.” Ryan says exasperated, “I don’t want to miss our flight.” 

Talan takes one of their housekeeper’s homemade breakfast burritos out of the freezer and twists the edge of the plastic film out. He looks at Ryan puzzled while he walks to the microwave. 

“What do you want me to do?” Talan asks puzzled punching in eleven minutes and eleven seconds on the microwave. “The car’s not here.” 

“I want you to be ready.” 

“Ok I am.” Talan replies, “Just say go. I’m good.” 

Talan opens the microwave door with nine minutes ago, takes out the burrito and closes the door not bothering to reset the clock. He takes a bite and walks past Ryan, out of the kitchen and into the hallway where he sits amidst the suitcases. 

“See?” Talan kicks back against Michael’s golf bag, “Ready.” 

The car shows up a full twenty minutes late and Ryan does a quick check to make sure he has both passports, all the luggage and that all doors are locked before he climbs in beside Talan. 

Luggage check is a nightmare, they’re way over their limit and both the surfboards and the golf clubs are oversized. Ryan deals with it through gritted teeth knowing they have to do the same exact thing in just one day. He’s annoyed that he’s the only one dealing with this and for a second, as the woman behind the counter tells him that the surfboards might have to follow on the later flight, he’s irrationally angry that Talan and him are flying to New York instead of Oliver and Michael flying to Florida. 

He looks behind him to make sure Talan is still close by and sees him leaning against one of the luggage cart looking bored and unhappy. 

“Why we doing this?” Talan asks once he catches Ryan looking at him, “Like I ain’t that good at maps but Costa Rica is closer to here… So like we gotta fly all the way there with all the stuff then we gotta like fly all the way back? Ols and Dad shoulda come here.” 

It takes all of Ryan’s self restraint not to agree with Talan. He hates that their family has been split into two different teams, Tal and him against Michael and Oliver. It’s never been like this before and Ryan doesn’t really understand what changed. 

“Ya always do what Dad says.” Talan complains. 

The remark hurts and Ryan can’t hide it. He turns back to the counter to wait for an answer and watches the minutes tick by on his watch. They have forty-five minutes before boarding and have yet to go through security. 

“Sir?” The customer service woman pulls him out of his trance; “All your luggage will be on your flight and will be waiting for you in New York City.” 

She names an outrageous sum of money that Ryan is sure could just buy Talan three new surfboards and he pulls out a credit card from his wallet, not bothering to check if it’s the right one. 

The security line is mercifully short and Talan, who’s been flying since he was six weeks old, knows the drill. Talan is still in a bad mood afterwards. He drags his feet and chews his lip. He walks in total silence. 

“Want hot chocolate?” Ryan offers as they pass a Starbucks on the way to their gate. “Juice?” 

“No.” Talan shakes his head, “Who’s got Hoops?” 

“Your uncle and Brady.” Ryan reassures, “They’re gonna go pick him up at lunch.” 

Talan nods but doesn’t seem any happier or any less stressed out. As annoyed as Ryan had been with him earlier that morning he feels guilty for adding his stress to whatever Talan is already worried about. 

“I’m sure they have decaf.” Ryan offers again trying to get a smile out of his kid, “Want iced coffee?” 

“Not really.” Talan shrugs, “Don’t wanna miss the plane.” 

“Baby stop.” Ryan grabs the handle of Talan’s backpack and pulls him backwards a bit to get him to stand still. “Look at me.” 

He lets go of Talan’s backpack to grab his arm. He guides Tal closer to the wall. 

“What?” Talan pouts, “I’m walkin’ fast so we’re not-” 

“I woulda liked to stay here too.” Ryan finally admits. Not wanting Tal to feel like the odd man out.

“Then why are we here!” Talan gasps infuriated. “Why d’we always gotta do what dad says. I wanna stay. You wanna stay so like yeah.” 

“Tal-” 

“No.” Talan twists out of Ryan’s grip, “I’m pissed off.”

“Baby.” 

“Stop calling me that.” Talan snaps. 

“Talan Michael.” Ryan chooses instead. 

“Don’t make fun of me!” Talan grits his teeth. 

“Tal.” Ryan says more gently, he hears the first boarding call for their flight, “This is the last time.”

“Yeah right.” Talan rolls his eyes.

“No I swear.” Ryan holds up his hand, “After we get back home, you stay there.” 

“I stay home?” Talan asks skeptically.

“Promise.” Ryan keeps his hand up, he knows bowing down to a pissed off fifteen year olds requests may not be the best idea but he needs Talan on the flight. 

The promise seems to appease Talan for a bit. Ryan keeps a hand clasped on the handle of his son’s backpack as they make their way through the airport crowd to their gate and he only lets him go once they’ve handed their tickets and are on their way into the plane. 

Talan takes the window seat and grabs his glasses out of his bag before shoving it under the seat in front of him. 

“There’s a marine park close to where we’re gonna be.” Talan says once Ryan is sitting down next to him, “They have leatherback turtles… Like the biggest turtles ever and-” 

“We’ll go.” Ryan promises knowing that Talan’s obsession with turtles goes back to his love of Finding Nemo. 

“Maybe Oliver won’t wanna go.” Talan says unsure. 

“Your brother’s gonna want to spend time with you.” Ryan reassures. “We all go see turtles.” 

“They’re gonna be huge.” Tal says and he smiles for the first time since going through security. “It’s gonna be so cool.” 

“Good.” Ryan reaches to pull down the airplane window shade, “Do up your belt before they tell you to.”

“I’m not tired.” Talan answers, “You said I could have coffee.” 

“When we were at Starbucks.”

“They got coffee here.” Talan assures him, “Deal still good?” 

Ryan thinks of it for a second 

“Deal.” He agrees. He knows he’s indulging Talan because he feels guilty about going to New York.  
“Decaf is bad for you.” Talan shares, “They gotta do a bunch of chemic stuff to it to get-” 

“Go to sleep Talan.” Ryan palms the back of Talan’s head and pushes it against the side of his seat, “Shhh.” 

 

**New York City, New York**

Michael had spent most of his night checking up on Oliver. He’d fall asleep and wake up convinced Oliver’s fever had climbed. Twice he’d gone in and woken up Oliver to take his temperature and twice Oliver had grumbled and tried to hide under his blankets. 

Michael wakes up in the armchair of the boys’ New York bedroom, his feet up on the foot of Oliver’s bed. Oliver is fast asleep on his stomach, his fingers curled around the edge of the well-worn star spangled towel that peaks out from under his pillow. 

Michael gets up and slips quietly out of the room closing the door behind him. 

Their New York apartment has never looked lived in. They’ve only used it sporadically over the years. Unlike their home in Florida, this apartment hasn’t grown with them. 

Their home in Florida is a testament to raising Talan and Oliver. Goggles, basketballs, shoes, uniforms and art supplies are somehow always everywhere. The couches are worn in and need replacing. The floors are scratched from dog nails and rogue indoor skateboarding sessions. Both the boys’ bedrooms have been redone and are filled with all the parts of all their lives. Michael had once found both boys’ entire tiny baby Jordans collection while looking in Ryan’s closet for a tie. 

The apartment in New York is none of that. Talan and Oliver’s bedroom is devoid of personal touches and painted a non descript shade of blue. The furniture is in remarkably good shape. 

It’s just after nine. Michael had last checked on Oliver around five. Talan and Ryan land just before noon and should get to the apartment by one. It gives Michael time to answer the rest of the emails about Oliver’s cancelled press tour and get Oliver some breakfast. 

He finds Oliver’s bottle of antibiotics next to the coffee maker and checks the dosage, Oliver is overdue for his second dose and Michael debates letting him sleep. He remembers what the doctor had said about the miraculous effects of antibiotics and grabs both the pills and a glass of water. 

Oliver’s bedroom looks slightly more lived in after just two days than the rest of the apartment. His suitcase is open and garment bags hang off the back of the door. His medal boxes are neatly stacked next to his carry on bag and his shoulder brace is on the floor.

“Oliver.” Michael says too quietly as he makes his way to the bed, “Wake up Bud.” 

Michael has to say Oliver’s name three more times before getting a reaction. Oliver burrows further under his blankets. 

“You gotta take your pills.” Michael sits down on the edge of the mattress. 

He rubs Oliver’s back waiting for him to wake up. 

“Dad and Tal are gonna be here in a few hours.” Michael keeps talking, “You should feel better by then… or tonight. If you take your pills.” 

Oliver stirs again and finally pushes himself up on his elbows and scoots himself back against the headboard. 

“Thanks Ols.” Michael hands him the pill and the glass of water. 

Oliver stares at the pill in his hand unsure. 

“You have to take it Ols.” Michael encourages, “I can get you ice cream after or a popsicle.” 

Oliver nods at the mention of popsicles. 

“D’you lose your voice?” Michael asks concerned. 

Oliver shakes his head. 

“Hurt to talk?” 

Oliver nods. 

“Swallow your pill Bud.” Michael says speaking to Oliver like he’s five and not seventeen, “It’s the only thing that’ll make you feel better.” 

Oliver doesn’t seem to want to hear Michael’s explications. He puts the pill in his mouth, takes a small sip of water and pushes his palms against both his ears as he swallows. The pill goes down easier than the water. Oliver chokes on the water and spits it back in the glass. 

“Pneumonia was better.” Oliver complains. He hands the water glass back to Michael before sinking back down against his pillows. He sees the corner of his towel peeking out and shoves at it to hide it away. “Popsicle.” 

“Go back to sleep.” Michael suggests instead, “You can have a popsicle when you wake up.” 

Oliver doesn’t argue, he smashes his pillow down and turns on his side away from his dad. He brings the comforter back up to cover half his face and it leaves his feet bare. 

“Come on Ols.” Michael gets up and tries to tug down on the comforter to cover Oliver’s feet back, “Use all your blankets.” 

Instead of moving, Oliver kicks Michael’s hand away. 

“You want to get your own popsicle?” Michael warns even though they both know it’s an empty threat. 

Oliver refuses to answer. He curls himself up until his feet are under his blanket and turns back on his stomach. Michael sees him reach under the pillow for the towel. 

“Feel better Bud.” Michael says, “Maybe Dad and Tal will be here when you wake up.” 

Michael decides to take advantage of Oliver still sleeping to go nap. He takes his phone and checks on Ryan and Talan’s flight before getting into bed. 

*

Talan befriends one of the flight attendants. She supplies him with a new cup of a coffee every time Ryan leaves his seat to go to the bathroom or to stretch his legs. By the time they land Talan has had three cups and Ryan is ready to sell him to the first person willing to take him and his surfboards somewhere far away.

“I don’t think it was decaf.” Talan theorizes jittering in place in his seat while they wait to de-board, “Like way not.” 

“You think?” Ryan shakes his head, “Try to sit still you’re making everything shake.” 

“I really can’t.” Talan says apologetically, “I’m like go go go.” 

Ryan groans. They have at least an hour and half before they make it to the apartment. He doesn’t want to think of being stuck inside a car in New York City traffic while Talan is buzzing on more caffeine that he’s ever had in his life. 

“Caffeine’s bad for you.” Ryan explains uselessly remembers from the hundreds of website he’d read about anxiety. “Talan.” 

“Yes!” Talan grabs his backpack, ignoring Ryan’s advice, “We can get out.” 

“Gimme a sec.” Ryan’s bag is in the overhead compartment. He stands up to take it out and looks down to see Talan bouncing from one foot to the other.

“You look like you need to pee.” Ryan informs him. 

“Yeah but not in a plane gross.” Talan scrunches his face, “Like where does it get sucked out? What if I like… Trap something in there and- no.” 

“Go dork.” Ryan stands in the aisle and motions for Tal to head out, “Take all your stuff.” 

Talan shoulders his bag and plays with the straps as he walks down the plane aisle. He stops to say bye to the flight attendants and gets a hug from his coffee conspirator. He smiles smugly to himself as he walks out of the plane and turns around to make sure Ryan is still right behind him. 

“Cool it rock star.” Ryan can’t help but smile, “Find a bathroom.” 

There’s a restroom just off their gate Ryan stops by the door and leans on the wall next to the water fountains. 

“Go.” He motions Talan forward again, “I’m gonna call dad.” 

“He’s just gonna be waiting for us.” Talan explains before disappearing into the men’s room. 

Ryan gets no answer from Michael’s cell phone. He leaves a message and sighs aggravated that after begging them to fly over Michael isn’t bothering to check that they’ve landed. 

Talan is taking longer than he should in the bathroom and suddenly every guy walking in or out seems suspicious. 

Ryan waits another thirty seconds that feel like five minutes before walking in. 

Talan isn’t the first row of urinals or stalls and sinks and Ryan’s heart jumps a little. He finds him in the second row of sinks, crouched down in front of his open backpack.

“Dude.” Ryan sighs walking towards him, “I was freaking out.” 

“Can’t find the wipe for my glasses.” Talan mumbles, “They’re dirty.” 

“Use your shirt.” Ryan rationalizes, “I thought-” 

“I was getting touched?” Talan stops his search to look up at Ryan, “I got stranger danger down.” 

“Here.” Ryan holds out his hand for Talan’s glasses. “Stand up the floor’s dirty.” 

“Thanks.” Talan takes the glasses off his face and squints a few times before handing them over to Ryan. 

“Those the only glasses you brought?” Ryan suddenly thinks looking at the bright orange Oakley frames in his hands. 

“Um yeah.” Talan nods, “They’re my faves.”

“So…” Ryan holds up the glasses to the overhead lights looking for smudges, “We go to a nice dinner and… Bright orange?” 

“Well I can like not wear them.” Talan shrugs, reaching back out for them, “but you’re gonna have to help so I don’t crash into stuff. Is dad here?” 

“I don’t think so Baby.” Ryan breaks the news, “He probably had to stay with Oliver.” 

“How we getting home?” Talan asks wide-eyed, orange glasses back on his face. 

“He got a car.” Ryan reassures even though he’s unsure, “Don’t worry.” 

Ryan catches sight of his own face in the mirror and groans. He’s unshaved and the fluorescent lights enhance every line in his face. He looks worn out and the bags under his eyes are definitely not attractive. He doesn’t look like his usual self and hates it. 

He checks his phone and sees Michael hasn’t called or texted back. His annoyance creeps up a little higher. He knows their luggage won’t fit in a cab and he doesn’t especially feel like being stuck in one. 

“Dad hadta send a car.” It’s Talan’s turn to reassure Ryan, “He always sends one.” 

“Lemme worry about that.” Ryan kisses the side of Talan’s head. Once they’re out of the bathroom how throws an arm around his shoulder, “I’ll get you home.” 

“Wish we were back home.” Talan sighs looking around the busy airport and glancing out a window to the gray weather outside. 

“Yeah me too.” Ryan admits. 

“Dad didn’t answer me either.” Talan says when he sees Ryan glance down at his phone. “Like he forgot we were comin’” 

Talan’s last comment fuels Ryan’s anger. Talan shouldn’t feel unwanted, ever. Ryan squeezes Talan to him as they get on the escalator towards baggage claim. He’s too tired to speak up for Michael. 

He lets Talan get on the escalator before him and kneads his shoulders right next to where the straps of his backpack rest. 

“Think he’d know if we just went back?” Talan asks. 

Ryan is sure taking Talan and all of the luggage back to Florida right now would most likely end his marriage. Michael and him probably can ‘t survive another blow up fight without threatening each other with lawyers and custody arrangements.

The only fight they’ve ever had which had ended in talks of divorce had been when Michael had refused to move to Florida with Oliver. Ryan had sought legal counsel to protect himself and his right to have access to their newborn. It was then Ryan had witnessed the full force of lawyers Michael was willing to throw at the mere thought of losing custody of his kid. 

Ryan is scared of losing Talan. 

The flight numbers aren’t up on the baggage carousels yet. Ryan keeps his arm around Talan as they walk around trying to spot people from their flight. 

“I don’t really wanna go back.” Talan says, “I just don’t want you guys to fight.” 

Out of everyone in their lives Talan is the one who is most aware that things between them aren’t good. Talan’s seen Ryan drunk and Talan’s heard Michael belittle him for it.  
Talan’s been around for way too many arguments. Talan knows entirely more than a fifteen year old should about the state of his parents’ marriage. 

“We’re not gonna fight.” Ryan promises. 

Talan shrugs off his answer like he doesn’t believe it. 

“Dad was probably up late with Ols.” Ryan finally jumps to Michael’s defense, “He’s jetlagged like us Baby.” 

Michael and him don’t fight all the time. They’re trying to work it out. 

“Yeah.” Talan nods. “He misses us.” 

“We’re pretty missable.” Ryan agrees.

*

Michael wakes up to a sharp kick. Out of instinct, he groggily turns around to hit Ryan back but he finds Oliver instead. He stops his arm before it connects with Oliver’s side and sits up. Oliver is twisted up in the blankets from his bedroom and has stolen the majority of Michael’s blankets too. 

Michael has no idea how long Oliver has been beside him or what time it is. He grabs his phone and Oliver turns on his side away from him taking even more of the blankets along. 

It’s late enough that Michael knows Ryan and Talan’s flight has landed. He has five missed calls from Ryan and a slew of messages. Michael sighs, redials and waits. 

“Yeah thanks.” Ryan answers, “We’re here.” 

“I was up all night with Ols.” Michael tries to explain, “I fell asleep and-” 

“Talan was looking for you. There isn’t a car.” 

“You got the tickets! I thought you’d get a car!” Michael defends himself. “I couldn’t leave Ols to go- You never said to get a car.”

“Stop.” Oliver complains before he tries to kick again. “Stop talking.” 

“Was that Oliver?” Ryan asks. 

“Where are you now?” Michael asks still concerned. “Do you have a car?” 

“No.” Ryan sounds frustrated, “That’s always you.” 

“Ry.” Michael speaks slowly, “I thought you’d get the car. I had to cancel Ols’ whole press. I was-”

“Yo I’m not dumb don’t speak slow.” Ryan stops him. 

Michael knows he’s just committed a cardinal Ryan sin. Ryan has no tolerance for being talked down to. 

“There’s fucking paps.” Ryan is short, “Got Tal while we waited outside so that was fun.” 

When Ryan goes quiet Michael can hear the dimmed noise of the airport. He faintly hears Ryan apologize to Talan. He understands why Ryan’s pissed and running out of patience. 

In the years they’ve been married they’ve each taken on certain responsibilities. While Ryan packs, wakes everyone up at 5 am and generally makes sure everyone has everything they need Michael is the one who plans the trips. It wasn’t ridiculous of Ryan to assume there would be a car waiting in New York. 

“I shoulda made sure you and Tal had a car Ry.” Michael says as a peace offering, knowing that Ryan might be the most unorganized traveler he’s ever known. He doubts Ryan knows where to go to get a car. He stops himself from asking Ryan if he’d had a drink on the plane. “Tal okay with the paps?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan concedes, “Gave them the finger though but I let it slide-” 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees. “You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s just not a good day.” Ryan almost apologizes. “You?”

“I’m the same.” Michael answers Ryan’s half spoken question. “I’ll make sure someone’s there-” 

Oliver kicks again and this time he doesn’t miss, his foot hits Michael’s knee with what Michael assumes is the same forces he uses to push himself off the wall. 

“Ow!” Michael reaches sideways to grab Oliver’s leg, “Stop.” 

“That him?” Ryan says. “How’s he?” 

“Cranky.” Michael answers truthfully. He cautiously lets go of Oliver’s leg and reaches down to rub his own knee. 

“Does he still have a fever?” 

Michael reaches over to palm Oliver’s forehead and Oliver jerks violently away. 

“It’s lower.” Michael answers before Oliver pulls hard enough on the blankets to almost make him fall out of bed, “Oliver if you want to sleep go back to your room. Stop-” 

“What is it?” Ryan interrupts. 

“I don’t know.” Michael snaps. His knee aches. “It was almost normal at 2am when I was still awake with him.” 

They lapse into silence and Michael has the urge to hang up. It’s incredibly frustrating for him to realize that Ryan and him still aren’t back to normal. They’re resentful of each other and quick to anger. 

“That’s good.” Ryan says his voice losing its edge, “Thanks for staying up with him.” 

“How ‘bout we talk when you’re here? I’ll get you guys a car. ” Michael offers instead of hanging up. “Want to talk to Ols?” 

“Yeah. Thank you.” Ryan agrees, “Sorry I-” 

Oliver takes the phone before Ryan can finish. He holds it between his ear and his pillow. Michael can’t hear Ryan’s side of the conversation but Oliver’s answers make it seem like he’s on his deathbed. 

Michael leaves the master bedroom while Oliver is still on the phone and does a quick walk through of the apartment. There’s barely any food in the kitchen and he hasn’t picked up any of the takeout containers from the previous few nights. The bag from the deli is still on the counter next to a cardboard Starbucks tray. 

There’s a landline in the kitchen and he uses it to arrange for someone to pick Ryan and Talan up from the airport. 

Michael knows that the clutter will bother Ryan but he’s still too annoyed to be bothered to clean. He leaves the kitchen the way it is and goes back to the master bedroom to talk to Ryan. 

Oliver is sitting up in bed still on the phone. Michael reaches back for his phone. 

“Hey, I got a car.” Michael announces, “The driver’s gonna call you.” 

“Thanks.” Ryan breathes in relief, “Sorry I fucked up.” 

“Don’t Ry.” Michael brushes his apology off, “How’s Ols?” 

“Dying apparently.” Ryan says seriously, “He’s fine.” 

“He’ll be better once you’re here.” Michael tells him. “I’ll let you go so they can call you.” 

“Fifty minutes?” Ryan estimates. “Talan says thanks.”

“His surfboards make it?”

“Yeah. His boards are fine. I’ll take over for Ols when we get there.” 

“We’re good Ry, he’s just-” 

“I know.” Ryan stops him. “See you soon.” 

Ryan hangs up first and Michael is left staring at the kid who’d tried to dislocate his knee a few minutes earlier. 

“You don’t kick me Oliver.” Michael says sternly, “Why aren’t you in your bed?” 

“I felt bad.” Oliver says and it’s obvious that speaking is painful. 

“You should of woken me up.” Michael checks Oliver’s forehead again and this time Oliver doesn’t shake him off. He’s definitely warmer. 

“I was gonna then I was tired.” Oliver explains. “I want a popsicle.” 

“Want something else for breakfast?” 

While he talks to Oliver, Michael looks around the bedroom and starts gathering things up. Putting his things back in his carry on bag and glancing around at the mess on the floor. He knows a messy bedroom will make Ryan angrier than a dirty kitchen. 

Oliver shakes his head, officially done with talking, and drops back against the pillow from Ryan’s side. 

“Popsicle. Sure.” Michael concedes trying not to think that Oliver’s caloric intake has probably leveled out to zero.

Before he leaves the room, Michael quickly gathers the pile of clothing up and dumps all of it in the hamper. 

“Purple.” Oliver specifies. 

By the time Michael gets the popsicle Oliver has gone back to sleep. He brings it back to the freezer and starts cleaning the apartment up. 

The front door slams open just as Michael is picking up decorative pillows from the floor of the bedroom and piling them back up on the bed. He pulls his side of the blankets up, trying to not disturb Oliver. 

“WE’RE HERE.” Talan yells. “DA-AD.” 

Oliver’s eyes fly open at the noise. 

“Wanna come say hi?” Michael proposes to Oliver. 

“No.” Oliver whines, “Tell dad to come here.” 

“DAD.” Talan yells again. 

Michael knows he’s no longer the parent Oliver wants. Ryan has always been the one to take care of the boys when they were sick. 

“Mike?” Ryan calls out from the front hallway. 

Michael wishes Oliver would get out of bed so he could prove to Ryan that yesterday hadn’t been some of the worst parenting of his life. 

“I was with Ols.” He explains walking up to Ryan, “Hey.” 

“They’re bringing up our stuff.” Ryan answers. “Hi.” 

“I got my surfboards though.” Talan motions to the bag already resting on the floor. 

“Want to tell your dad how much coffee you drank in the plane?” Ryan challenges. 

“I thought it was decaf.” Talan defends himself. 

“He knew it wasn’t decaf.” Ryan corrects looking at Michael, “Three cups. Hey.” Ryan walks up to Michael and kisses him, “We’re here.” 

“Yeah.” Michael smiles. Thirty seconds after Ryan and Tal have walked into the apartment it automatically feels livelier. It’s like a small hurricane has landed in the apartment. Everything up to this point had been quiet but quiet isn’t something Ryan and Talan ever really do. 

“Oliver up?” Ryan asks hopefully. 

“He’s awake. He’s in our room.” 

“I’ll go see him. Stay for the luggage?” 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees, “Did Tal eat?” 

“Talan did not.” Talan answers, “You said you had good bagels.”

The next ten minutes are a flurry of luggage being brought up and Talan’s non stop monologue about the past twenty four hours. Talan eats a bagel while he aimlessly walks around the apartment going from window to window to stare outside. 

Michael follows Talan and listens to him talk. He’s amused by the fact that Talan’s somehow chosen to wear what Michael remembers being Ryan’s favourite outfit. Listening to Talan talk mostly nonsense about turtles and surfboards is refreshing after spending the last few days with a sick Oliver. 

“I’m bored.” Talan complains once he’s run out of things to say. They’re in the living room and he’s leaning forward against the window and leaving palm and forehead prints against the glass. 

Michael’s heard these words before. He knows that they’re just as dangerous coming from Talan as they had been coming from Ryan.

“Maybe I can go get pizza by myself?” Talan asks hopefully, “Like you’re both busy with Ols so…” 

“You’re gonna take the subway by yourself?” Michael challenges because Talan’s never taken the subway at all, “No.” 

“I don’t just wanna stay here.” Talan complains, “S’nothing to do.” 

“You won’t be bored tomorrow.” Michael points out. “You’ll be surfing.”

“Yeah but like now I’m bored.” Talan complains. 

“We’re going to Costa Rica.” Michael reminds him, “If you’re-” 

Michael bites back his words. He has a hard time feeling sorry because Talan is bored in a Fifth Avenue penthouse for twenty-four hours before he flies to a five star resort. Michael has to remind himself that if Talan is spoiled Ryan and him are the first people to blame.

“Can I go to Central Park?” Talan interrupts Michael’s thoughts. “I wanna pretzel.” 

Central Park is just a street away and Talan’s been there alone before. 

“Yes.” Michael concedes because Talan will just slowly drive everyone crazy if he’s stuck inside the apartment all day. “Bring your phone. Be back in an hour.”

“Yeah!” Talan jumps at the chance, “D’you think Oliver wants a pretzel?” 

“No.” Michael answers quickly, “You have an hour.” 

“Yo yeah.” Talan nods, “Can I take my skateboard?” 

Michael wants to say no, because in all his years being with Ryan and raising two boys skateboards have never brought anything but broken limbs and concussions. 

“Go skateboard Baby.” Michael allows against his better judgement. “Don’t ride in the streets.” 

“There’s no streets in Central Park.” Talan reassures. “I just gotta cross one.” 

“Don’t bump into people.” Michael pulls out his wallet and takes out a twenty-dollar bill. He hands it to Talan but holds it back for a second, “Don’t talk to anyone weird.” 

“Yeah yeah.” Talan nods enthusiastic, grabbing the bill “Be back in an hour, don’t talk to strangers.” 

“Be careful.” It’s Michael’s last piece of advice, “Please.” 

“Like when am I not careful.” Talan reassures, “I’m always careful. Thanks.” 

Talan reaches up to hug Michael and Michael palms the back of his head, smoothing down too long hair that is way blonder than Ryan’s ever was. Tal squirms out of his reach after a few seconds. 

“If Ols wants a pretzel call me.” Talan says walking to the pile of luggage in the front hallway and opening his surfboard bag to pull out an American flag penny board and a pair of cargo shorts. He disappears into the bathroom to change

“You call if you need help okay?” Michael waits for him in the hallway, “If they give you trouble in the lobby call too.” 

They’d been in New York right before flying to Rotterdam. Talan had gone out to skateboard through Central Park and had been stopped by the doorman on his way back into the building. They’d refuse to let him up until Ryan had vouched for him. 

“I’m gonna run in fast if they don’t. Trick ‘em.” Talan says walking out in shorts. 

Talan shoves his sweatpants in his board back. He looks down at his watch and fiddles with the buttons. 

“Set it for an hour.” He holds the flashing down numbers to Michael’s face for a second before walking away. 

“Don’t skateboard in the building.” Michael calls out after him, “Love you.”

Michael can’t see Tal from the windows and he can’t make sure he gets to Central Park safely. He starts to push some of the luggage closer to the wall until he hears Ryan move things around in the kitchen. 

“You believe he’s not dying?” Michael asks when he walks in. The kitchen suddenly seems way dirtier than it had been before. 

“Well he’s not good.” Ryan opens to the freezer, takes out a popsicle and holds the opaque white wrapper up to the light to try and see the colour, “That looks purple.” 

Ryan opens the wrapper and swears when he’s faced with an orange popsicle. He shrugs, breaks it in two and sticks one half in his mouth. He holds the second half out to Michael. 

“No thanks.” Michael says. 

“I got it.” Ryan waves off his apology and carefully selects another popsicle. This time it’s the right colour. He grabs a bowl from the cupboard and puts the popsicle in it before popping both in the microwave. 

“Why you melting it?” Michael asks, “It’s cold for his throat.” 

“He can eat it like slush.” Ryan puts fifteen seconds on the microwave and waits, “easier to swallow. Always done it like this.” 

Michael doesn’t question Ryan’s sick kid decisions because Ryan is the sick kid parent. Instead Michael starts cleaning up the take out containers on the counter. 

“I told Tal I’d take him out for shoes.” Ryan says once the microwave beeps. Ryan takes the bowl out and throws away the two wooden sticks. He uses a spoon to crush the popsicle into a slush. 

“He’s skateboarding in Central Park. He’s coming back in an hour.” 

Ryan still has his half of the popsicle in his mouth and it’s distracting. Michael watches Ryan lick melted juice from the side and groans. 

“You like that?” Ryan grins at him before taking the entire popsicle down his throat. 

“Yeah. You should stop.” Michael takes a step forward, grabs Ryan’s hips and brings him in closer to kiss him. Ryan tastes like orange crush. 

“Lemme get our dude back in his own bed.” Ryan says, sucking down on the popsicle again before running his tongue along the end. “You take Tal for shoes and-” 

“Why would I take him out for shoes?” Michael asks. He keeps Ryan close. 

“I got Ols so you can take Baby.” Ryan explains, “You guys need to spend time together anyway so-” 

“Tal wants to go shoe shopping with you.” 

“He don’t care.” Ryan answers, “It’s how I got him to come here.” 

“I can look after Ols.” Michael reminds him.

“I don’t like how sick he is.” Ryan frowns. 

“I’m fine here.” Michael insists.

“You were up with him all night.” Ryan reminds him, a bit of an edge to his voice, “Take a break.”

“Yeah ‘cause Tal’s a break.” 

“Nice.” Ryan takes a step back and drops the orange popsicle in the sink. “Good to know.” 

“That’ s not fair Ry-” 

“Do I gotta beg you to spend time with Tal?” Ryan asks quietly.

“Stop twisting what I say.” Michael cries out, “It’s not fair.” 

“Tal giving up his week home to be here ain’t fair. All he wants is a pair of sneakers.”

“I-” 

“Yes or no Mike I-”

“Yes God.” Michael snaps, “Quit making me look like the bad guy.” 

“He wanted to head back home.” Ryan lets Michael know, “He knows you say this shit about him Mike he ain’t dumb he gets it.” 

“I like sneaker shopping with Tal.” Michael tries to calm them both down. “I love him dude come on.” 

“I know you do.” Ryan picks up the bowl full of half melted purple popsicle, “I just like… I dunno why he thinks you don’t like him as much-” 

“I do.” Michael says hurt, “He’s you dude I love him like… What he’s wearing? How many times you wore that?” 

“Pretty sure it’s my shirt.” Ryan softens, “Told him to change.” 

“He didn’t.” 

“Ate a burrito ‘stead.” 

“S’happier with you guys here.” Michael tries to explain, “I’ll go with him when he comes back.” 

“I’ll get this to Oliver before it melts.” 

“Ry.” Michael calls out after him, “I-” 

“I told Tal we wouldn’t fight.” Ryan says, “I don’t wanna fight.” 

“We’re not gonna fight.” Michael agrees, “I’ll finish cleaning up.” 

*

“Made it!” Talan declares when he walks back into the apartment exactly an hour later. 

“I’m in the kitchen Tal.” Michael calls out. 

Talan strolls in with his skateboard still tucked under his arm. 

“I got a pretzel for Willy.” He holds out the change to Michael. “S’why there’s less.” 

“Who’s Willy?” Michael asks. 

“The homeless guy by the market.” Talan explains, “He talks about the sixties and aliens and stuff. He’s nice.” 

“D’you fall?” Michael chooses to ignore Talan’s affinity for helping out the homeless and focuses on the scrape on Talan’s leg. 

“Oh yeah squirrel.” Talan explains nonchalantly before pushing the change into Michael’s hand, “I’m good.” 

“Why’s this wet?” Michael asks once the crumpled bills are in his hands.

“Was in my shoe.” Talan explains. He bends down into the sink and drinks straight from the tap, “Didn’t wanna lose it in my pocket.” 

Michael drops the change on the counter and wipes his hands on his pants. 

“Go shower.” He instructs Tal, “Then we’ll go for sneaker.” 

“Dad an me are going for sneakers.” Talan dismisses, “And pizza. From Joe’s.” 

“Dad’s gonna stay here with Ols.” Michael informs Tal, “You an me are going out for shoes.” 

“I mean it’s whatever.” Talan says easy going, “We gotta get Ols sneakers too though. He’ll feel better with sneakers.” 

Michael highly doubts sneakers have the ability to heal strep throat but he likes Talan’s dedication to helping Oliver out. He assumes this is what Ryan had been like in high school before they’d known each other. 

“We’ll get Oliver sneakers.” Michael promises. “Go shower.”

Talan takes one more long drink from the tap and Michael refrains from reminding him that they own cups. He splashes water on his face and wipes it off with the dishtowel hanging off the stove handle. 

“Shower here’s weird.” Talan complains, dragging his feet on the floor, “There’s a window.” 

“We’re high up.” Michael comforts, “No one sees anything.” 

“Bet there’s one weird dude somewhere with bird glasses to watch.” Talan theorizes. 

Michael doesn’t try to understand what bird glasses are. 

“The more you talk the less time we have for sneakers.” Michael points out. “I was gonna leave in half an hour.” 

“We like… never talk.” Talan points out. He jumps up to sit on the kitchen island. “An’ I know what Jordans I want so I don’t need time.” 

It amazes Michael that with one day to spare Ryan has turned Talan from an anxiety riddled angry kid back to his baseline normal goofball former self. 

“I like when we talk too.” Michael offers. “I missed you Tal.” 

“Can I tell you what I’m worried about?” Talan asks chewing his lip, kicking his feet back against the cabinets. “Like it bothered me on the plane.”

“What bothered you?” Michael asks concerned. He walks forward and catches Talan’s foot, he holds his leg out straight and looks at the scrape, “I’m gonna clean that out.” 

“No peroxide!”

“Why d’you need peroxide?” Ryan asks walking in the kitchen, “D’we have like canned tomato soup here?” 

“Maybe?” Michael answers unsure, “Probably expired.” 

“Oliver wants tomato soup.” Ryan specifies, “Anyways why peroxide?” 

“I tried not to hit a squirrel and I bailed.” Talan explains, “Got my leg.” 

“Lemme see.” Ryan closes the cupboard door, and turns to look at Talan’s leg. “Yeah that’s fine.”

“We don’t have any peroxide. Your lucky day.” Michael grabs some paper towels off the roll and turns on the tap. He pumps some soap out and waits for the water to get lukewarm. “Ols wants lunch?” 

“Made him choose between tomato soup or chicken noodle. He chose tomato. Now I gotta find it.” 

“It’s not even that bad.” Talan twists his leg to look at the scrape. “I washed it out at the fountain.” 

Michael doesn’t want to think about his kid putting New York City fountain water on an open wound. 

“Dude that’s gross.” Ryan points out. 

Ryan opens the door to the pantry and half disappears into the small space. He pulls a can of soup from the back of a shelf and flips it to look at the expiration date on the bottom, “Still good!” 

“Do we have band aids?” Michael asks when Ryan fully emerges back out. 

“I got some in my bag.” Ryan tells him. He pulls a bowl from a different cupboard and dumps the tomato soup concentrate into it. “You might wanna get soap that’s not for dishes too.” 

“Yeah you’re right.” Michael washes the soap off his hand and closes the tap, “Stay there.” He tells Talan. 

“Make sure Gator’s not bask asleep.” Ryan adds a can of water to the bowl and stirs, “I’ll make sure this one don’t move.” 

Ryan isn’t in the kitchen when Michael comes back with a soapy washcloth and some Batman band-aids. 

“He went to make sure Ols eats his soup.” Talan says. “Ols won’t talk to me.” 

“His throat hurts.” Michael holds his hand out, “Leg?” 

“We were talking before Dad made soup.” Talan reminds him, flexing his foot back and forth. 

“What are you worried about Tal?” Michael remember. He dabs the washcloth against the smaller scrape below Talan’s knee.

“Like…We’re gonna go golfing right you an me?” 

“Yeah.” Michael confirms because Talan is the only one who enjoys playing golf with him. “Keep your leg straight.” 

“You didn’t lemme bring my clubs.” Talan says, leaning back against the granite, “So I’m gonna have to play with rentals and I dunno if I’ll be good. Like maybe I’ll be bad with ‘em and you’ll be embarrassed. Like I’ll be way over par and you won’t wanna-” 

Self-doubt claws it’s way back into Talan’s face. 

“I’m not good at golf Baby.” Michael admits. He dabs at the scrape with the soapy water, “We play for fun.” 

“Hey ow!” Talan sits up and withdraws his leg from Michael’s grip, “That stings.” 

“Tough it out.” Michael takes Talan’s leg back and keeps cleaning. “I play to spend time with you. I’ll play with rentals too.” He offers. 

“Okay.” Talan agrees, “I feel better.” 

“Good.” Michael wipes the soap off Talan’s leg with a clean paper towel. “Your cut’s clean.”

The rest of Talan is still filthy. He has mustard on his arm and grass stains on both his knees. His face is streaked with sweat. 

“Yeah I’m gross.” Talan says when he catches Michael looking at his filth “Ima go shower.” 

“Then we get you Jordans.” Michael agrees, “Go.” 

Once Talan leaves the kitchen, Michael walks to the dining room to check up on Oliver. Oliver is sitting at the antique table that’s never hosted a dinner party or held a full family meal. He mushes crackers into his bowl instead of eating. 

Ryan sits across the table from him observing the entire operation. 

“Hey you’re feeling better.” Michael says relieved. He walks into the room and settles himself next to Ryan. He strokes Ryan’s back. 

“Naw.” Ryan answers gravely, “Kid’s on his deathbed.” 

Oliver shoots an angry stare at Ryan. 

“Eat your soup Gator.” Ryan pacifies. He looks up at Michael to clarify, “He eats lunch, he gets his blankets back.” 

Oliver takes a spoonful of soup and swallows. He makes it a point to look at Ryan and grimace. 

“Good boy.” Ryan encourages. 

Oliver gives Ryan another death stare. 

“Tal’s showering then we’re going to go get shoes.” Michael informs Ryan, “And pizza.” 

“Maybe not pizza.” Ryan thinks out loud, leaning back against Michael’s hand. “He’s eaten pizza for two days.” 

“You’re the one who said he could have pizza.” Michael reminds him. 

“Tell him we’ll order something else. Like that… Pasta place he likes. Ols can eat pasta.”

“No.” Oliver croaks, his voice quieter than it had been this morning. 

“That’s right.” Ryan says somberly. “Oliver may not live to dinner.”

“It’s not funny.” Oliver lets the spoon drop in the bowl and pushes it away. A wave of soup spills over the edge of the bowl. “My stomach hurts. My head hurts. I wanna go back to bed. I’m not hungry. It’s not funny.” 

Oliver wraps both his hands over his throat and presses his fingers against his ears. He looks miserable and in a fair amount of pain. 

“Hey.” Ryan’s attention refocuses entirely on Oliver, “It’s okay.” 

“No.” Oliver whines and it’s hard to imagine that he’s the same kid who’d been swimming for medals a few days earlier. 

“Go back to bed.” Ryan says calmly, “I’ll bring you Tylenol and the stuff for your throat.” 

Oliver storms out of the dining room in a flash of Christmas tree printed pajama pants and an Orioles sweat shirt. 

“He’s the one who said he was hungry.” Ryan says dejected staring at the spilled soup on the table, “Was joking ‘bout the blankets.” 

“Bring it to him. He might eat it in bed.” Michael offers sitting down on the chair next to Ryan’s, “These chairs suck.”

“He’ll be good by tonight.” Ryan promises. “I’ll do better.” 

“You can’t like baby it outta him.” Michael reminds Ryan, “They said twenty-four hours for the antibiotics to kick in and he’d be better.” 

“I don’t like waiting.” Ryan pouts. 

“He looks better.” Michael says gratefully, “Tal too.” 

“He can’t swallow.” Ryan worries, “His fever’s back up. I dunno Mike like we leave tomorrow yeah? What if it’s worse?” 

“Ry.” Michael leans towards Ryan. He puts one hand on the side of Ryan’s face and kisses his neck. “He’s okay.” 

Ryan leans against the chair’s back and closes his eyes. 

“He’d never have gotten up for lunch for me.” Michael notes.

“Made him.” Ryan admits, “Dude can’t go from how much he was eating to not eating nothing. That’s scary.” 

“He’s not working out.” Michael points out. 

“He’s getting a gold medal in whining right now don’t be so sure.” Ryan groans.

“Cause he knows you’ll baby him.” Michael points out. 

Ryan stretches and turns his head sideways to kiss Michael before standing up. 

“Imma go dope him up.” Ryan plans. “We good?”

Neither of them has apologized for anything yet but Michael nods anyways. 

“Once Ols is good we’re gonna.” Ryan yawns, “Kick ‘em both out for a day and just like.” He motions between the two of them. “Miss you.” 

There really isn’t anything that sounds more appealing to Michael at the moment than being alone with Ryan on a beach somewhere. He selfishly thinks that maybe once Oliver is at Harvard and Talan is settled in his new school Ryan and him can take a few days off together somewhere. The thought of being just with Ryan without the stress of the kids is deliciously tempting. 

Michael knows that once Oliver is at Harvard and Talan is in school things will slow down. Once the house is empty for the majority of the day Ryan and him can deal with their problems and get back to normal. Michael hopes that once things slow down so will Ryan’s drinking. 

It’s too easy to focus on the bad things when they’re apart. 

“Thanks for making him feel better.” Michael says. He reaches back and grabs hold of Ryan’s arm dragging him in closer. 

“Made the kid cry over soup.” Ryan’s mouth is a tight line. “Not that great.” 

“D’you have anything on hold at Flight Club?” Michael asks. 

“Not for me.” Ryan answers, “There’s a pair for you though, one for Ols.” 

“’Kay.” Michael answers plan already made to surprise Ryan with some ridiculous pair of shoes. “Go see Ols.” 

*

While Michael goes to shower, Ryan takes the soup bowl into the kitchen and dumps it’s content in the sink. He takes a coffee mug from the cupboard and ladles more soup into it. He gets another popsicle from the freezer, the Tylenol from the counter and the paper bag from the pharmacy before heading back to see Oliver. 

Ryan doesn’t bother to check Oliver’s room, he knows that there’s no way Oliver has chosen to go back there. Sure enough Oliver has returned to hold siege in their master bedroom. 

“You’re hungry.” Ryan tells Oliver when he walks in, “Drink the soup.” 

Oliver reaches out for the cup without complaining and takes a careful sip. 

Ryan puts the popsicle on his bedside table before walking towards the bathroom with the medication. 

“Dad’s in there.” Oliver warns. 

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Ryan laughs opening the door anyways. 

“Gross.” Oliver mutters before taking another sip of soup. 

In the medicine cabinet, Ryan finds a cough syrup bottle he remembers buying the last time he’d been in New York for a meeting. He checks the expiry date before grabbing it off the shelf. He leans back against the counter and admires Michael through the glass paneled shower door for a second before walking out. 

“Syrup for your throat.” Ryan explains, brandishing the bottle at Oliver. “Plus Tylenol for fever.” 

“Am I even allowed to take that?” Oliver asks reaching for the syrup bottle and turning it over to read the label, “Maybe call grandma.” 

“You signed up for a meet I don’t know ‘bout?” Ryan challenges. “Someone gonna come drug test you in Costa Rica?” 

“She’ll know if it’s okay.” Oliver insists before taking another sip of soup. 

“Just trust me and take it.” Ryan suggests, “I got you this far alive.” 

“S’hard to swallow.” Oliver admits handing the mug of soup back to Ryan, “I can’t.” 

“Okay.” Ryan says cautiously climbing on the bed to sit close to Oliver’s knee, “You still gotta try though.” 

Ryan reaches for the popsicle and hands it over. 

“You gotta break it in two.” Oliver requests. 

“You’re seventeen.” 

“I’m sick.” Oliver mopes. 

“Take these.” Ryan puts two pills into Oliver’s hand before opening the popsicle pack, “Take the warming stuff too for your throat. I’ll take your temperature after.” 

Oliver’s fever is back around a hundred and he’s only eaten a few tablespoons of soups. 

“D’you feel any better?” Ryan asks taking Oliver’s temperature again just to be sure. 

Oliver nods but doesn’t take the popsicle out of his mouth to speak. 

“You got more antibiotics in an hour maybe that’ll help.” Ryan says hopefully. “Dad and Tal are going for sneakers, I’m staying with you.” 

Oliver nods and puts the half eaten popsicle aside straight into the cup of soup on the bedside table. 

“D’you wanna try some water?” Ryan suggests, “You gotta drink something Gator.” 

Oliver shakes his head. He moves his pillow in closer to rest against Ryan’s side. 

Worried that his fever will climb back up, Ryan pushes some of the extra blankets off Oliver’s shoulders. 

“We’ll see how you feel in the morning.” Ryan says gently, “Maybe we stay here a few more days.” 

Oliver nods. 

“D’you say he’s not drinking water?” Michael walks out of the bathroom fully dressed. 

“Yeah.” Ryan answers worried, “I’ll try ice in a bit. If he’s not feeling better tomorrow Mike we can’t fly outta the country like that’s-” 

“We’ll see tomorrow.” Michael says concerned, “Any shoes you want Bud?” 

“Something gold.” Ryan jokes to try and make Oliver laugh. 

Oliver doesn’t laugh. He grabs Ryan’s hand and holds it over his face. 

“I got some on hold for him.” Ryan answers instead, “So he can bring ‘em to Harvard.” 

It’s hard for Michael to imagine that the kid clinging to Ryan is three weeks away from leaving for college. 

“I’ll get those. We’ll see you guys later.” Michael pats Oliver’s feet before bending down to kiss his head “Feel better Bud.”

“Not more than two pairs for Tal.” Ryan warns, “You gotta watch him he’ll try an’ trick you.” 

“Got it.” Michael leans over Oliver to kiss Ryan’s head also, “Call me if you need something.”

“We’ll be good.” Ryan reassures shifting so put more room between Oliver and him trying to not make his son any warmer than he needs to be, “I got this.” 

Oliver sleeps on and off for most of the time Michael and Talan are gone. He eats two more popsicles and a cup full of ice chips. Ryan falls asleep after Oliver finishes his cup of ice chips and takes his antibiotics. He wakes up when the front door slams shut and he hears the sound of boxes being dropped on the floor. 

Ryan slithers his arm out from under Oliver’s pillow and stretches. He grabs the thermometer from Michael’s bedside table and takes Oliver’s temperature even though Oliver is still asleep. 

Oliver’s fever is gone and Ryan is relieved. Jetlag however has caught up with him and Ryan is exhausted. Instead of getting up and going to see Michael and Talan he drops back against his pillow, reaches for the television remote and hits play to restart the movie Oliver and him had been watching earlier.

“We’re back.” Talan says from the doorway of the master bedroom, “All got shoes.” 

“Good.” Ryan would get up but Oliver’s head is back resting against his shoulder, “I told Dad not to get pizza sorry Baby I-”

“I’m tired too.” Talan complains, “I wanna watch the movie.” 

“Where’s your dad?” Ryan asks shifting so Oliver falls gently back on his pillow. 

“Here.” Talan takes a step into the room, “He’s on the phone I’m tired.” 

“Fine.” Ryan agrees, he stops the movie to try and find a new one. “Don’t bug your brother. Find a spot.” 

“Yeah don’t worry.” Talan climbs over Ryan’s leg and steals one of his pillows, “I will.” 

Talan chooses to lie across the bed. His legs are draped over Ryan’s feet and his pillow rests in the free space beneath Oliver’s curled up legs. He reaches to grab the decorative green throw from the floor and drapes it over himself. 

“You comfy?” Ryan asks. He’s amused by Talan’s ability to bulldoze his way anywhere. “Careful Ols doesn’t kick you.” 

“Mmhm.” Talan agrees.

“Tough to be you. All that shopping.” Ryan sympathizes, moving his legs so his feet are resting on top of Talan’s legs “Feeding homeless people.”

“Ha.” Talan fake laughs, “Ha.” 

“Shh.” Ryan reminds him, “Ols doesn’t feel good.”

“S’he okay?” Tal asks concerned. He tips his head up to look at his brother. 

Ryan remembers Devon hovering like this when he’d been sick or injured. Ryan remembers Devon getting him ice and sitting beside him in the living room when he’d been home after knee surgery. 

“Yeah.” Oliver answers Talan. 

“We got you new SB’s.” Talan tells him.

“Which ones?” Oliver moves to give Talan more room and pushes down his pillow to look at him. 

“The high top grey ones with the black and like-” Talan turns on his side to look at Oliver, “Why d’you get SB’s you don’t even skateboard.” 

“’Cause I-” 

“I get Jordan’s but I play basketball so-”

“What d’you want me to wear?” 

“Those feet scuba things.” Talan answers after thinking, “Flippers.” 

“Guys.” Ryan intervenes, “Oliver’s not suppose to be talking.” 

“I can talk.” Oliver argues, “It hurts but-” 

“Wish we knew sign language.” Talan laments, “I remember some from Sesame Street but only like soup and thank you.” 

“Hello.” Oliver signs 

“Thank you.” Talan signs back. 

“Look the movie’s starting.” Ryan points to the screen. “Stop being dorks.” 

Ryan’s happy. Despite their hectic morning, his fight with Michael and Oliver being sick. Being with his boys at home is really the only place he’s ever wanted to be. He’s grateful that for the moment being both his dudes seem to be doing better. 

From his spot at the foot of the bed Talan pushes his feet impatiently against Ryan’s legs. 

“What Baby?” Ryan asks quietly risking the nickname that had cause such backlash at the airport earlier. 

“You should rub my feet.” Talan suggests. 

“No.” Ryan says pretty quickly, they’d rubbed Talan’s feet as a baby and as a toddler but as a teenager it’s not about to happen, “You rub mine.” 

“No. Gross.” Talan exclaims stretching out his legs over Ryan’s before curling them back up. 

“Here.” Ryan takes one of Oliver’s discarded blankets and sits up to drape it over Talan’s feet. “Your feet are freezing. Be warm.”

Instead of staying where he is, Talan climbs up on his knees and turns around. He rests his pillow against Ryan’s calves and curls back towards the television covered in both of his blankets. He yawns before laughing at the screen. 

“Sleep.” Ryan proposes once Tal is settled down. “We’ll get dinner after.”

*

When Michael’s call with Oliver’s agent ends the apartment is so quiet that for a second he assumes everyone has left. Everyone’s shoes are still by the entrance. Michael grabs the Flight Club bag with the sneakers he’d bought for Ryan and heads to the master bedroom. 

Both Ryan and Oliver are awake but Talan is dead asleep snoring at the foot of the bed. 

Michael had married Ryan without ever thinking of him as a dad and now Ryan’s ability to parent is one of Michael’s favourite things about him. Wherever they are in the world Ryan always makes the boys feel like they’re home. 

“They’re both good.” Ryan smiles at him, he points to Oliver. “This guy’s a ton better.” 

“They got you trapped though.” Michael points out. 

“Yeah.” Ryan looks from Talan using his legs as a pillow to Oliver still leaning on his shoulder, “Not the worst thing.” 

“Was gonna call and order dinner.” Michael sits down on the bed next to Ryan and tries to make room for himself, “Walk down and get it.” 

“This isn’t happening.” Ryan laughs again trying to move to give Michael more room. Both Oliver and Talan refuse to budge, “Food’s a good idea. I’ll come with you.” 

Ryan sits up and extracts his legs from under Talan’s head. 

“Don’t.” Talan complains sleepily. 

“What kinda pasta do you want dork?” Ryan asks, brushing Talan’s hair to the side to keep him awake. 

“Alfredo sauce.” Talan answers moving his head away from Ryan, “No like weird stuff in it.” 

“Okay. Gator?” 

“Can’t eat pasta.” Oliver complains. 

“Yeah it’s really soft.” Michael tries to sound convincing. “You have to eat something Ols.” 

“I don’t care.” Oliver stretches and sits up. He looks at the popsicle and tomato soup filled coffee mug beside the bed with disgust. 

“Gnocchi?” Ryan suggests, “Like it’s soft you can mush it in the sauce?” 

“Yeah.” Oliver agrees because despite his throat feeling like it’s swollen shut he’s starving. 

“Good.” Michael praises, “Maybe get out of bed. Wanna walk with us to the restaurant?” 

“No.” Oliver refuses right away, “Gonna go shower.” 

“That’s a good idea!” Ryan approves. 

“You guys are the worst.” Oliver shakes his head embarrassed. 

Oliver stands up too fast and everything spins for a second. He takes a step backwards and Michael rushes to his side of the bed to steady him. 

“I’m good.” Oliver assures, “I just got up too fast.” 

“Go drink juice.” Michael orders, “Something with sugar. You don’t want to pass out in the shower.”

“That’d be embarrassing.” Talan laughs, “I wouldn’t go save you if you’re naked dude sorry.”

“So gnocchi.” Ryan points to Oliver, ignoring Talan’s lack of heroism. “An’ alfredo sauce no pasta.” 

“What?” Talan flips over on his stomach to stare at Ryan outraged, “Dude I want pasta.” 

“Dude?” Michael questions. 

“You just said sauce.” Ryan points out.

“I want pasta don’t.” Talan flips back around. 

“Fettuccine?” Michael asks.

“Yeah.” Talan nods, “That’s good.” 

“Outta our bed.” Ryan slaps Talan’s legs, “Off limits.” 

“I’m comfy!” Talan says outraged, “What’s your problem!” 

“You have a bed.” Ryan points out, “And we’re coming back with food.” 

“Unfair.” Talan grumbles. 

*

New York City is never really quiet but it’s the first time Michael and Ryan are alone all day. 

“Feel like I didn’t see you today.” Ryan says as they walk out of their building, “Probably been sleeping since-” The end of Ryan’s sentence is lost as he yawns. 

“We’re alone now.” Michael points out. “Want coffee?” 

“Yeah.” 

They stop at Starbucks and Ryan leans against the counter watching Michael order for them. He closes his eyes and rests his head against Michael’s shoulder and lets his husband rub his back. They aren’t usually this public about anything but Ryan is exhausted and Michael’s hand is comforting. 

“We’re gonna take it easy tomorrow.” Michael assures, grabbing their receipt and moving to the end of the counter to wait for their drink. “Chill on the beach, get room service.” 

“Convince Oliver to live another day.” Ryan grumbles. 

“You baby him too much.” Michael reproaches kindly, “He gets away with it.” 

“He’s our dude.” Ryan answers, like they’re talking about Oliver as a baby, “It’s our job to baby him.” 

“He hasn’t said anything ‘bout his shoulder.” Michael notes, “That’s good.” 

“Mmm.” Ryan sounds in agreement. 

Michael wants to kiss Ryan’s jaw and his neck. Wants to press his skin against his own and feel his warmth. He wants Ryan badly and in a New York City coffee shop there’s nothing he can do about it. He quickly kisses Ryan instead. 

“Our room’s separate from the dudes at the resort.” Ryan remembers, “Like there’s two cabins. Theirs is with the living room. Ours is by itself.” 

“Can’t wait.” Michael winks at him. 

The barista calls out their coffee order and Ryan reaches for both cups. He takes them over to the milk and fixes them before putting a cover on each one. 

“Brought the white speedo.” Ryan winks handing Michael his cup, “Not for the dude’s eyes.” 

“They’ll get tired of us.” Michael says hopefully. He holds the door open for Ryan and follows him out. He loops his arm around his husband’s waist as soon as he falls into step with him. 

They walk another block in comfortable silence. Michael watches Ryan drink and notices that Ryan had chosen to wear his wearing band, something they don’t habitually do. The diamonds catch the light from street lamps and neon restaurant signs and sparkle back at him. 

“You showed up today and it was like.” Michael still doesn’t know how to explain the effect Ryan has on his life, “Everything was better like-” 

“House felt weird without you.” Ryan tells him, “Bed there sucks without-” 

“No you.” Michael feels like had at the very beginning, when he hadn’t been able to tell a nineteen-year-old Ryan that being with him changed everything. That he didn’t want to go back to not knowing him. “You show up and it’s good.”

“Cause we’re all together.” Ryan recites like it’s the punch line of a Barney episode. “That was bad.” He groans.

They get to the restaurant and wait to pick up their takeout. Ryan makes sure Talan’s order is correct because he knows Talan won’t eat it otherwise. They get ice cream for both boys. 

“Where’s that bar we went to?” Ryan asks as they walk back home, “The one we went to the first time we-” 

“Like a few blocks down?” Michael guesses, “We weren’t staying at the apartment we were at a hotel.” 

“Oh yeah.” Ryan remembers, “It be cool to go back like… I dunno that’s the night we-” 

“No.” Michael laughs, “That was a few days after.” 

“Dude” Ryan says deadpan, almost insulted, “Not that. That was the night you like lemme back in.” 

“No.” Michael shakes his head, “Few days before.” 

“Well that’s the night I knew okay.” Ryan rephrases his memory, “That song was playin’ and we had wings and it was fucking freezing out so we stayed way too long.” 

“That’s the night we said we still wanted kids.” Michael remembers, “That bar.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan hits Michael’s arm in thanks, “Who knew.” 

“Yeah.” Michael nods.

It’s not winter and they’re not freezing and the hypothetical baby they’d talked about that day is now seventeen and waiting for them to bring back food. They’re both older and years removed from how famous they’d been then but they’re still together. 

“We should bring ‘em there like to show-” 

“Don’t think they’d wanna see.” Michael breaks the news to Ry, “Kind of a sketch place anyways.” 

“Didn’t notice.” Ryan brushes it off, “Had better things to think about.”

They walk an entire block in silence before Ryan talks again. 

“I know it’s like not.” He stops to think, “Good with us like now. I get we’re not…” 

“Yeah.” Michael glances sideways at Ryan. “We kinda stopped trying to make it good.” 

“I hate that.” 

“Me too.” Michael agrees. 

“The…” Ryan grabs Michael’s arm and stops him, “The office we bring Tal to to see his shrink.”

They’re stopped in the middle of a sidewalk. People are brushing past them and Michael takes a few steps back until they’re pressed against the wall of a building. 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan keeps going, “They do marriage counseling. Maybe it’s not the best place to go. I dunno if the shrink’s good with like us.”

“For us?” Michael asks trying to follow

“No like. We’re gay.” Ryan specifies.

“Ok yeah.” Michael understands Ryan’s concerns. Ryan doesn’t want any added stress. Doesn’t want to be turned away.

“I don’t care where we go. We can come here for it or Bmore I just wanna fix it I don’t want-” 

They’re discussing their marital problems in the middle of the city while their dinner goes cold and their two teenagers wait for them at home. They have an apartment with entire rooms that aren’t being used and yet they’re hashing things out in public. It’s the first time they both acknowledge that they need help and it’s happening while half of New York City parades on the sidewalk in front of them.

“We let it drop.” Ryan sounds disappointed. 

“Yeah we did.” Michael agrees. “Tough year.” 

“I like can’t keep going if we’re not gonna fix it.” Ryan confesses, dropping his eyes to look at the ground “The way things aren’t I can’t.”

“We’ll figure it out Doggy.” Michael assures. It’s scary to finally know how close Ryan is to bailing. Part of Michael is aware that the only reason Ryan is still here is because of Talan. 

“I don’t want to quit.” Ryan asserts. 

“No one’s quitting Ry.” Michael says, he grabs the side of Ryan’s face and makes him look up. “I’m not quitting.” 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan nods. 

“We’ll get help.” Michael’s never been willing to do this but he’s willing to do it now because things seem desperate. He doesn’t want to have to live somewhere without Ryan. Or a life that Ryan isn’t part of. Michael doesn’t want to put Talan through a custody battle.

“Yeah.” Ryan nods again. 

Ryan is different than the person who’d been joking with Talan and Oliver. He’s sad, tired and discouraged. Michael gets that most of Ryan’s energy over the past year has been dedicated to getting Talan through the school year. Talan sometimes seems to need more than either of them can give him and Michael is aware Ryan takes on the brunt of it. 

Michael wants to promise to fix things. He wants to promise to be home more often, to take on his fair share of helping Talan. Michael wants Ryan to be truthful about his drinking. He wants Ryan to take more responsibility for the business side of their marriage. He needs Ryan to put them first sometimes. He needs Ryan to trust him with Talan. 

Michael wants to do anything he can to maybe go back a few years and work on their marriage like they had worked on Oliver’s swimming career. He’s more than aware that it’s too late. 

“I’m sorry.” Ryan apologizes, “I just had to let you know where I’m at.” 

“We’ll fix it.” Michael repeats, “We got to.”

“We should get back.” Ryan says. 

Ryan sniffs and Michael hadn’t noticed he’d been close to tears.

“Ry.” Michael rests the bag of food on the ground and reaches out to hug him. “We’re good.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods and pulls away to pick up the bag Michael’s left on the pavement. 

They have to go back to the apartment and pretend to be okay for the boys. They have one more block to walk and this time Ryan’s the one who loops his free arm around Michael’s waist. 

They’ve been with each other since they were teenagers. Not much older than Oliver is now. They’ve never quit anything else and Ryan is confident that they aren’t about to start with each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always known how the middle and the ending of Tides happens. What I never stopped to think about was the beginning and the beginning turned out to be way longer and more involved than I ever thought it would. 
> 
> I apologize for the wait and for a less than exciting chapter. I promise the rest won't take as long or be as tedious. Moving four people around in a small space isn't something I particularly enjoy writing. I struggled through this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks so much for still reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided to break a longer chapter up to let the story flow better. The second part should be up in the next few days. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, I promise this is getting somewhere.

"Dad." 

They’d gotten to the airport before any of the counters had opened and waiting has never been something anyone in their family has done exceptionally well. It’s too early to be awake and way too early to be at the airport dealing with the airline’s customer service rep. 

The surfboards and the golf clubs are once again proving to be a problem and now Michael is stuck. He can’t take his clubs back to the apartment and they’re too valuable to leave behind. He doesn’t know why after taking them all over the world the airline decides to give him a hard time about them now. Probably because it’s six am and he has two sleepy and hungry teenagers to take care of. 

“There’s a weight limit to luggage and I can’t guarantee that after everything is checked that there’ll be room for-” 

Michael tries hard to care about what the customer service representative is saying but he can’t really be bothered to. Either the luggage goes with them or comes on a later flight. He wants an answer not an explication. 

“Dad.” 

"Talan." Michael turns his head around to look at his son, "I'm trying to get your surfboard on the plane without having to give it your seat... Hold on." 

"Dad." Talan tugs insistently on the strap of his bag, "Da-ad."

"There's two of us Talan, go find your-" 

"He went to pee. I just have you." 

Michael sighs. 

Ryan and Michael had been up at 4am to get ready for the airport. Both the boys had refused to get out of bed until they’d threatened to leave without them. Oliver hadn’t bothered to change out of his pajamas and Talan hadn’t had time to eat breakfast. 

“Dad.” Talan tugs on Michael’s shirt instead. “Dad look at me.” 

The customer service man looks from Talan to Michael pointedly and part of Michael is happy that his son isn’t just annoying him. If he has to wait half an hour for his luggage to be checked in the man can stand to listen to half an hour of Talan’s nonsense. 

“Dad.” Talan huffs out frustrated. “Please.” 

"What's so super important Talan?” Michael sighs. "I can switch you to coach."

"Ok so." Talan holds up the picture page of his passport up to his face, "If this was like the only picture of me you had. Like all you had like just this pic an’ I wasn’t there would you say I'm your son? Would you go around showing it to people like: ''yeah'" Talan imitates Michael's voice, "'this is Talan I'm related to...'" 

“What?” 

“Would you show this picture to strangers an say I’m your kid.” Talan gives him the short version of his story.

Michael’s already lived through Ryan acting this way. Except with Ryan Michael could go home and choose not to answer his phone. He can’t go home or ignore Talan because he’s legally responsible for his well being. 

“Is there a seat in coach for him?” Michael asks the man at the counter. 

“Hey!” Talan cries out, “Not fair. Come on.” 

Unfortunately, downgrading Talan to coach eliminates his baggage allowance and Michael is forced to abandon his plan. Beside him, Talan smiles smugly. 

“Let me see the picture.” Michael holds out his hand for Talan’s passport. 

Michael’s seen Talan’s passport picture before. His hair is everywhere and the flash had bleached out his eyebrows and enhanced his freckles. He had chipped one of his front teeth a few days prior and they hadn’t been able to book him into the dentist yet. His nose is sunburnt and his shirt is stained. He looks unkempt and a little homeless. 

“I’m beautiful.” Talan notes looking at his own picture. 

“You’re a dork. Put that in your bag please.” Michael hands Talan his passport. “Did Ols go with Dad?” 

“Yeah.” Talan nods, “He’s being boring.” 

“He doesn’t feel good Baby.” Michael defends Oliver. 

Talan swings his backpack off his shoulders and unzips the front pouch to put away his passport. He drops the bag on the floor after and leans his chin against the counter staring at the man sorting out their luggage. 

“My surfboards gonna make it?” He asks. 

“Yes.” The man answers, “I just have to tag them-” 

“Yeah make sure they don’t get lost.” Talan agrees, “I need those. Please.” 

“He’s tired.” Michael excuses. 

“You are all set.” The man hands a strip of luggage tags to Michael, “The two oversized bags will not be on the carousel. Your departing gate is 32.” 

Michael is sure that Talan’s behavior should be credited for the speed the transaction had suddenly been executed. 

“Do we gotta walk far for thirty two?” Talan asks as they walk away from the desk, “You think Oliver got like rek-nized? We should go wait for them. Dad’s carrying his bag.” 

Michael is too tired to answer any of Talan’s questions. He keeps listening while he looks for Ryan and Oliver. Talan doesn’t seem to notice the one sided conversation. He leans against Michael and keeps talking. 

" Can I have a donut? Did you bring your good golf clubs? Maybe I shoulda brought those instead of my board. Do we have to go through security again? Do I have to take off my shoes? How long's our flight? What's your seat number? Am I sitting next to you or Dad? Are we gonna get there before night time? Can we eat in our room?"

"Talan." 

"Do I have to share a room with Oliver?" 

"It's six am Babe." 

They’d fallen into the habit of calling Talan Baby shortly after they’d brought him home from the hospital. It was easier to tell Oliver that the baby was sleeping, that the baby needed to eat, that the baby would eventually stop crying and that the baby was there to stay. 

The nickname had stuck and Talan had never really voiced a problem with it. Talan is no longer a baby though, he’s spurting up and the top of his head now reaches Ryan’s chin. His face is still slightly pudgy but over the past few months he’d gotten way ganglier. He seems to have more extra inches of arms and legs than he knows what to do with. Baby no longer seems to fit and so lately Michael had started using Babe. Talan had just gone with it. 

"Yeah?" 

“Shhh.” Michael puts an arm around Talan's neck and reaches around to cover his mouth.

Instead of licking Michael’s palm or ducking away from him, Talan drops his head against Michael’s side. 

Oliver and Ryan are waiting for them by security. Oliver has the hood of a too big plain grey hoodie pulled over his head and is still wearing his sunglasses. Michael knows it’s because he doesn’t want to be recognized. Tired and sick Oliver does not feel like being Oliver Phelps-Lochte. 

Talan hovers nervously around his older brother and Oliver tolerates it. They’re sent off to a different security line despite Ryan saying that they’re traveling as a family. 

“Can you see them?” Ryan asks dumping his wallet and his phone into the tray, “I hate when they’re not with us.” 

“I see Ols.” Michael strains over the crowd, “He’s behind Tal.” 

“He wants juice.” Ryan remembers, “I said he could have juice after we go through.” 

“Tal wants a donut.” Michael adds. He pushes Ryan’s tray forward to put his own down. “They’re both gonna sleep on the plane.” 

“Ols’ fighting through.” Ryan praises. He toes off his brand Louboutin sneakers and carefully places them in the bin next to his wallet, “These are awesome by the way. You didn’t hafta.” 

“S’your birthday.” Michael shrugs it off. 

Ryan’s birthday is in two days and for once Michael has no idea how to celebrate it. He usually goes all out for Ryan but this time around he’d been too busy getting Oliver through Rotterdam to plan anything. He knows Ryan doesn’t need a new car or a crazy trip to Vegas. At this point, with a ridiculously busy year and only a short time left before they ship Oliver off to Harvard, Ryan would probably enjoy having a quiet evening with the boys. 

“Yeah.” Ryan turns around and grins. Suddenly he looks a lot less tired and a lot younger, “It is.” 

Ryan loves birthdays, anniversaries, major holidays and ridiculous made up commemorative days. He celebrates Manatee Appreciation Day and both boys’ original due dates. Talan’s birthday always ends up as some kind of thanksgiving extravaganza. Before they’d been living together, Michael had gotten used to waking up in Baltimore on his birthday to find a bored Ryan waiting in his kitchen. 

He feels momentarily panicked that he has nothing planned because Ryan deserves an awesome birthday. 

“Mike.” 

Ryan snaps his fingers in front of Michael’s face to bring him back down to earth. 

“Dudes are out.” Ryan continues once Michael’s eyes focus back on him.

Ryan points beyond security to where Talan and Oliver stand together waiting for them. Talan is holding Oliver’s bag and Oliver seems to actively be trying to hide behind his shorter younger brother. 

“Anyone spot him?” Michael undoes his belt and hands over his boarding pass. 

“No.” Ryan looks back at him as he steps up to the metal detector. “I ninja hid him.” 

Ryan goes through without a problem and Michael follows him. By the time they put their shoes and belts back on and repack electronics in their bags Talan and Oliver are sitting on the floor.

“The floor’s dirty dorks let’s go.” Ryan points his thumb in the direction of the Sky Club, “Get you guys some breakfast.” 

Talan gets up first and slings the straps of Oliver’s backpack over his forearm. He reaches down for Oliver’s hand and pulls him up. 

“Not your hurt shoulder Ols.” Michael groans, “Come on.” 

“Can you walk all the way there?” Ryan asks worriedly, “It’s still pretty far.” 

“I’m fine.” Oliver looks at both of them pained. 

Ryan isn’t so sure that Oliver, who hadn’t eaten much of anything the day before, is okay to walk half the length of the airport but he can’t imagine Oliver agreeing to being pushed in a wheelchair. 

“You’re eating breakfast.” Ryan warns, “All of it.” 

“I want breakfast too.” Talan answers, “Last time they had mini muffins and-”

Three teenage girls who come out of nowhere to stop short in front of Oliver interrupt Talan. 

“Hey.” Talan cries out unimpressed. 

“Oh my god.” The first girl breathes out excited, completely ignoring Talan. “Oh my god.” 

She reaches out to touch Oliver’s arm and Michael quickly moves Oliver back out of her grasp. The girl doesn’t let go of Oliver.

“We’re like.” The second girl keeps talking, “We love you.”

“We stayed up to watch your races.” The third girl takes over, “And you were on tv the other day and now you’re here. We love Pace Chosen too. We love you. Oh my god can you sign something or take a picture or-” 

“Are you feeling better?” The second girl asks concerned, “You said you were sick.” 

“I have my phone.” The first girl holds it up, “Can you sign my-”

“He can sign.” Michael conditions. He keeps his arm from in front of Oliver’s chest, “No pictures.” 

Situations like these make Michael nervous. There’s no security and no way of knowing how many other teenage girls were hovering around waiting for someone else to make their move. He has no way to control this. His main goal is to keep Oliver safe. 

“It’s okay.” Oliver steps forward pushing Michael’s arm away and takes the hood off his head. “Hey.”

“Oh my god you’re sick.” The first girl takes a step closer to Oliver again. Her hand closes around his sleeve. “Your voice!” 

“No I’m okay.” Oliver smiles, “What’s your name?” 

“Kate.” The second girl answers, flipping blonde hair over her shoulder. 

“Savannah.” The first girl holds onto Oliver’s shirt like it’s a lifeline. 

“Isabelle.” The third girl looks ready to pass out, “Oh my god you’re like my favourite.” 

“He’s your favourite?” Talan shoots out sarcastically because he can’t imagine Oliver being anyone’s favourite anything. He doubts these girls are actually aware of who Oliver really is. 

“He’s got this.” Ryan tugs Talan and Michael back. 

Oliver is a foot taller than both girls but Michael still steps aside reluctantly. He watches Oliver bend down to hug each girl and lean in for cell phone pictures. He looses track of their excited banter and tries to focus on where the girls are holding onto his son. 

“They’re dumb.” Talan grumbles. “Oh my god Oliver.” He mimics. 

“Go get a donut.” Michael grabs both of the backpacks from Talan. “You got your pass you can go wait for us in the sky club after.” 

“Oliver wants a donut too.” Talan tries. 

“Oliver won’t eat a donut. Get him iced coffee.” Ryan answers. 

Talan looks at him outraged. 

“When you’re seventeen you can drink coffee.” Ryan calms. “Go get your donut.” 

“Yeah watch they don’t start making out.” Talan says disgusted pointing to the girl whose arm is now around Oliver’s waist. “Gross.”

Talan takes his bag anyways, slings it over his shoulders and walks off. He shoots one last betrayed look at Oliver. 

*

The line for donuts is long. Talan puts headphones on and blasts his music loud enough that he’s sure other people around him can hear it too. His day becomes officially worse when the cashier tells him they’re out of glazed donuts. 

“D’you have any other ones that are vegan?” Talan asks. 

“Uh?” The cashier answers back. 

“The glazed ones aren’t like cooked in pig fat.” Talan says gravely, “I don’t want to eat the ones that are.” 

“Um we have bagels?” The cashier tries, “Those are baked.” 

“No.” Talan sighs, “The donuts.” 

“I don’t know.” She says impatiently, “Like maybe the plain ones?” 

“Like maybe?” Talan shakes his head annoyed, “Whatever, just iced coffee. Large.” 

Talan puts his headphones back over his ears and digs through his pockets for money. He yawns and waits for Oliver’s coffee. He no longer cares about donuts or bagels. He hopes there’s good food in the airline lounge or that he can find a snack before they get on the plane. He regrets not eating breakfast at home.

He grabs two straws for Oliver and pierces one through the top. He shuffles his bag around until he can find his boarding pass and his passport, he decides to head for the sky club instead of going back to where he’d left his family. 

The cup is too full so Talan takes the occasional sip as he walks through the airport. He wonders if people recognize him; he figures his own face has been on television enough that someone might. As much as he hates the occasional photographers that assault his family in public he can’t help but think that it would be cool for girls to recognize him. 

It’s not fair that Oliver who probably doesn’t even like girls gets all the attention. 

*

“Yogurt.” Ryan drops the container in front of Oliver, “Oatmeal, English muffin, hard boiled egg, Cheerios, milk.” 

Ryan arranges the food in front of Oliver, lining them up side by side on the table. He drops peanut butter, jam and butter packets behind the food. 

The three girls had mercifully been the only ones to recognize Oliver. After pictures and hugs they’d walked off but not before shoving hastily written phone numbers into his hand. 

“Giving Tal five more minutes.” Michael says not looking up from his phone, “Then I go get him.” 

They’d gotten to the Sky Club before Talan and claimed an area by the windows as far away from everyone else as possible. Michael sits across from Oliver and answers emails while Ryan focuses all his energy on getting Oliver to eat.

They have another hour before they board and Ryan is hell bent on making sure Oliver eats breakfast. He doesn’t want to have to depend on airline food or getting enough time to get something during layover. 

“Eat three.” Ryan commands. 

Oliver stares at the food before he pushes the hardboiled eggs as far from the rest of the food as possible. 

“I know.” Ryan agrees, “Just had the most protein.” 

Oliver grabs the yogurt and the English muffin. 

“One more Gator.” 

Oliver shakes his head no. 

“Do you want me to go get Savannah?” Ryan jokes, “Want them to see you like this?”

Oliver makes a face but reaches forward to grab the carton of milk. 

“Want some peanut butter on your bread?” Ryan reaches for a knife, “Has protein.” 

“No.” Oliver checks the flavor of the yogurt before peeling off the lid. He stirs with a plastic spoon and looks up to see Ryan still staring at him. “Dad come on.” 

“Ry.” Michael speaks up not looking from his phone. 

“Oliver come on.” Ryan chooses to ignore Michael, he spreads peanut butter on each half of Oliver’s English muffin anyways. “Eat.” 

“Dad.” Oliver pleads to Michael, “Make him stop.” 

“Oliver eat breakfast.” Michael decides to back up Ryan instead.

Oliver takes a spoonful of yogurt and then a small bite of his English muffin. He tries a sip of milk before he pushes all the food away from him. 

“You’re killing me.” Ryan sighs. 

Oliver picks up the milk carton, opens it and pours a small amount into his cup of tea. He takes a sip instead of talking to Ryan. 

“Finally.” Michael says relieved, he waves his arm to catch someone’s attention. “Talan!” 

Talan sits down beside Oliver and holds an iced coffee in front of his face. 

“Oh my god.” Talan exclaims, his face inches away from Oliver’s. “Oliver. Oh my god.” 

“Shut up.” Oliver takes the iced coffee and shoves Talan away by pushing his elbow against his younger brother’s chest. He reaches for Talan’s arm afterwards and tries hard to shove him off his chair. 

“Omg he touched my arm.” Talan turns to look at Ryan in mock awe, “Oliver! I went to all your races I-” 

“Shut up!” 

“He talked to me! D’you tape it? Dad get a picture. Dad take a pic- ow!” 

Oliver punches Talan’s ribs hard. 

“Whatever.” Talan grumbles, rubbing his side, “Maybe I drank from your ice coffee maybe I didn’t.” 

“Where’s your breakfast?” Ryan answers back. He doesn’t bother chastising Oliver for the hit. “You were getting a donut.” 

“Didn’t have stuff I could eat.” Talan explains, “What they have here?” 

“Have yogurt.” Ryan says. “It’s healthy.”

“Yogurts gross it looks like cu-” 

“Maybe we take you with us maybe we don’t.” Michael looks up from his phone to interrupt; he’s clearly not amused by Talan’s behavior.

“I’ll get some muffins.” Talan looks at Ryan quizzically as he gets up, “And a banana.” 

Ryan can’t bring himself to give Oliver a speech for hitting Talan. He decides to let it go and refocus on Oliver eating breakfast instead. 

“You need to eat.” Ryan reminds Oliver. 

*

Going through customs in Costa Rica is a disaster. They wait for more than an hour crowded in a part of the airport that has subpar air condition. They slowly wind their way through a roped off line stopping for ten minutes every now and then. 

Oliver, who’s been putting on a brave face all day, starts to breakdown. He’s too warm and his throat burns. He sits down on the floor and leans his head against his knees.

“We’re almost there.” Michael comforts even though the line isn’t moving at all. “Look there’s just a few more people.” 

Oliver nods but keeps his head bowed. 

“It’s okay Gator.” Ryan pushes Oliver’s sweaty hair off his forehead. 

Oliver shakes his head no. 

“Here.” Talan reaches into his bag and pulls out a bottle of water, “Drink.” 

Oliver takes the bottle and holds it up to his forehead for a second before untwisting the top and taking a drink. He tries to swallow but chokes on the water again. 

“Takes smaller sips.” Michael says. He takes the bottle away from Oliver and hands it back to Talan, “Are you going to be okay?” 

The last thing Michael wants is for Oliver to pass out while waiting for customs. 

“Yeah, s’just hot.” Oliver reassures. 

“You gotta stand up buddy.” Michael says regrettably, “Line’s moving.”

Michael sees Ryan grab Oliver’s upper arm to pull him up. Ryan keeps holding Oliver’s arm as they move eight feet forward before stopping again. Ryan digs through his bag until he comes up with Advil and some throat lozenges. He offers both to Oliver along with Talan’s water bottle. 

“You doing good?” Michael asks Talan. 

“Yeah.” Talan assures, “You?” 

“I’m good Babe.” Michael answers. 

“If we tell someone Ols’ sick can they like help us out?” Talan says concerned, “Like let him sit somewhere else?”

Talan’s genuine concern for his brother melts Michael. Talan doesn’t mind being crammed in the miserable line but he wants Oliver to be somewhere he can feel better. 

“There’s just twenty people in front of us.” Michael estimates, “We’re gonna make it.” 

They wait another half hour before it’s their turn to step up to the agent. Michael hands over all their passports and drags Talan in front of him so the border agent can see all of them. 

Their passports get stamped and ten minutes later they’re sitting in the hotel van with the luggage, the surfboards and the golf clubs. Ryan stays outside the van to make sure everyone’s bags are there while Michael sits in the van with the boys. 

“Here.” Michael aims one of the air conditioning vents right at Oliver. 

“Yeah.” Oliver takes a sip of water from the new bottle in the cup holder by his seat, “Thanks.”

“Yeah here.” Talan aims the vent above his head at Oliver too, he looks at Oliver worried. “Do like-” 

Talan takes his new water bottle and presses it to the back of his brother’s neck. 

“Sorry it should be like freezing.” He apologizes, “This ain’t.” 

“M’okay.” Oliver ducks out of Talan’s reach and leans against the window with his eyes closed. 

Michael knows Talan’s learned most of his first aid knowledge from being a patient. Talan’s had more concussions, stitches and broken bones than he cares to think of. They’ve had to treat him for heat exhaustion way more times than Michael wants to remember. 

“Put your wrists up to the AC.” Talan recommends. “Dad puts ice packs on mine but we don’t got one here.”

Oliver ignores the advice and Talan looks at him worried before looking at Michael for reassurance. 

“He’s okay.” Michael reassures, knowing that Oliver’s probably more drained than sick and that this is probably mostly dramatics. Oliver wants to be taken care of. 

“How long to the hotel?” Talan asks instead. 

Talan’s hair is pushed off his face by a bandana. He chugs down his water bottle while he waits for an answer. 

“I don’t know Baby, half an hour?”

“Yes.” Talan exclaims, “I’m starving.” 

It’s pass dinnertime and Michael doesn’t want anything more than to be at the resort drinking beer with Ryan. He looks out of the back window to see Ryan checking the zip on his golf bag and digging through his pocket to tip the person helping. 

He glances back at his boys in the seats behind him. 

“Put the AC back on you.” Michael tells Talan because Talan looks equally as overheated as Oliver, “Drink some water.” 

Both his kids are overtired, hot and hungry and there is very little Michael can do to solve the problem without being at the hotel. 

“I’m going surfing tomorrow.” Talan says ambitiously, “While you’re all sleeping.” 

Michael’s about to agree until he remembers the warnings he’d read about strong riptides on the beaches of the resort. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen Talan swim and it makes him uncomfortable. If he’s going to send his kid out in the ocean he wants to make sure he can swim first. 

“I wanna see you swim before.” Michael conditions. 

“Oh my god.” Talan rolls his eyes, “I know how to swim. I swim with Brady.”

“You don’t swim with Brady.” Ryan answers, opening the door. He climbs into the van and settles into the very last bench behind the boys, “You get changed, stretch then you both do something’ stupid and you get kicked out. You spend time in the showers with Brady.” 

“Cause swimming’s boring.” Talan exclaims, tipping his head backwards to look at Ryan, “I can swim.” 

“Then you won’t have a problem showing me.” Michael concludes. 

The driver starts the van and the air conditioning blasts out of the vents twice as strong. 

Talan stops arguing back and leans back to enjoy the cold air. He pulls the bandana off his forehead and runs his fingers through his hair, lacing them behind his neck and leaning his head forward. 

“Can I have seat belts on please?” Ryan calls out loudly, “Oliver.” Ryan reaches forward to slightly shove his oldest son’s head forward, “You can hear I know so seat belt on.” 

“I don’t think we gotta.” Talan informs. He tips his head back up and peers out at the other cars around them. 

“In this car with us you do.” Ryan reminds him, “Seat belt.” 

*

They’d picked Costa Rica at random. It was a name on their list of vacation spots and had only won over because it had beaches Talan wanted to surf. 

The resort had golf courses and private cabanas. It was close to a turtle sanctuary, something Talan had wanted to visit since he’d worn out their copy of Finding Nemo as a toddler. Costa Rica had seemed like a good place to wind down after such a crazy year. 

Once they get to the resort Oliver walks into their cabana and heads straight for the bedroom with the two double beds. By the time Michael catches up to him, Oliver is already in bed. 

“Shower first?” Michael suggests. He feels pretty disgusting himself so he can’t imagine how gross Oliver feels. “It’ll be better.” 

“No.” Oliver refuses. 

“Change?” Michael suggests again because Oliver’s been wearing the same clothes for at least twenty-four hours. 

“Nah.”

“Want me to stay here with you?” Michael offers. 

Oliver stays quiet. 

Michael decides that Oliver is more tired than sick. He knows Ryan would push and Ryan would stay without permission. Michael is tired too though. He’s hungry and desperately wants to shower. He wants to finally be alone with Ryan. 

“I’ll check on you later.” Michael reassures before walking away, “Tell us if you need anything.” 

Oliver sleeps through dinner. Ryan orders soup for him but Oliver refuses to acknowledge Ryan’s attempt to wake him up. He blinks awake long enough to take his antibiotics. 

They’d originally had plans to go explore the resort, to go to the beach and go scope out the best place to eat breakfast. Michael had wanted to go ask about tee times and Ryan wanted to book a fishing trip for all of them. 

However Talan starts to nod off while he’s eating his dinner and he eventually falls asleep beside his plate with his fork still in his hand. 

“Go to bed.” Ryan says shaking his shoulder, “Before you sleep in your food.” 

“M’not tired.” Talan fights.

“Yeah you are.” Michael assures him. 

“I’m gross though.” Talan wrinkles his nose at his own filth, “Needa shower.” 

“Yeah try and stay awake.” Ryan says, “We’ll clean up your plate dude go.” 

While Talan walks off to go shower, Ryan gathers all of their plates and puts them back on the cart a waiter had brought to their cabana. 

“I’m gonna go shower.” Michael says, “Come to bed too.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan assures. They haven’t gotten the chance to have this much privacy in months. “Just gonna check the dudes are in bed.” 

“Don’t sleep out here.” Michael warns, “Please.” 

“I won’t MP.” Ryan reassures, “I’ll hog your blankets all damn night don’t worry.” 

“Can’t wait.” Michael answers. He kisses Ryan on his way out the door, holding one hand to the back of his husband’s neck to keep him close. 

Ryan feels excitement pool in his stomach like this is two months after Beijing and Michael had just shown up in Gainesville. The kind of excitement he used to feel when sleeping with Michael was still a rare occasion. Back when they still tried to hide it from Devon. 

“Five minutes.” Ryan says pulling away, “Need to say something to Ols.” 

“Want me to wait for you to shower?” Michael offers. 

“Nah… Just go I won’t be super long.” 

Michael pushes the room service cart to the end of the hallway before walking out of the main part of the cabana. 

Once he’s gone, Ryan can still hear the shower. When he walks into the boys’ bedroom Oliver has his eyes opened. 

“You’re better.” Ryan tells him, “Tomorrow you can swim with Tal.”

“No.” Oliver hands the water glass back to Ryan and lies back down, “Stayin’ dry.” 

“Whole trip?” Ryan says in disbelief, “We take a boat fishing and you’re not gonna jump in?” 

“Dry.” Oliver answers. “Forever.” 

“Your brother’s stoked to spend time with you.” Ryan reminds him. 

Oliver doesn’t even bother nodding.

“You can’t hide in here forever.” Ryan says what he’s been thinking about since getting to New York, “You an Ev broke up but it’s gonna be okay yeah?”

Oliver and Evan had broken up right before Oliver had left for training camp. Oliver hasn’t had time to process it and Ryan’s afraid that a month removed from it Oliver only feels worse. He suspects that Oliver is hiding because it’s the first time since the beginning of July that he’s had time to feel sad. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Oliver hides his face and Ryan knows he might have just hit the nail on the head. 

“You’re gonna go to Harvard-” Ryan’s not sure he should continue but he does anyways, “and there’s gonna be other guys… or girls- and you’re gonna be good.” 

Ryan doesn’t expect Oliver to answer and Oliver stays silent. 

“Night Gator.” Ryan pats Oliver’s side, “Dad an me are right next door if you need anything.” 

Talan is the only one left in the living room. He’s sleeping on the couch with his soaking wet hair while holding a pillow to his chest.

“Talan.” Ryan calls out loudly, “Yo Talan.” 

Talan blinks awake confused and looks at Ryan annoyed. 

“Bed.” Ryan says, “Go.” 

Talan sits up and rubs his face. 

“Dad an me are just like ten feet away.” Ryan points to the door. “Anything’s wrong come get us.”

“Yeah I got Oliver.” Talan stretches, “Night.” 

“Night Baby.” Ryan watches him walk away, “We’ll go look around tomorrow okay?” 

“Yeah.” Talan waves at Ryan. “Go to bed.” 

Ryan waits until Talan’s in the bedroom before walking out and locking the door. It’s a five-foot walk to the second cabana that houses the master bedroom. Ryan stops on the wooden walkway to feel the breeze coming from the ocean. He closes his eyes and breathes in deep.

“They got us champagne.” Michael’s voice brings him back down to earth. “Coming in?” 

Ryan opens his eyes and Michael is standing by the open door of their bedroom holding a still corked bottle. 

“Yeah.” Ryan answers.

Ryan yawns and stretches. Michael reaches forward, and runs his fingers over the few inches of Ryan’s exposed skin before he wraps his hand around Ryan’s side. 

Michael is showered and only in underwear. Ryan can smell his cologne and moves in closer, pressing his t-shirt against Michael’s bare chest. 

“Dudes are in bed.” Ryan yawns again. He turns his face away “I’m gross.” 

“Look hot.” Michael shrugs off Ryan’s concern. 

“Yeah.” Ryan laughs before he shakes his head, “Like hot mess.”

“Don’t care.” Michael noses the side of Ryan’s neck and kisses close to his ear before kissing right next to his Adam’s apple. “Want you.” 

“Yeah you do.” Ryan grins and tips his head back, “After I shower.” 

Ryan lets Michael guide him into the bedroom. He lets Michael kiss his way down his chest and run his hands down the back of his shorts. Ryan kisses him sloppily, pulling away to suck near his collarbone, his neck and to nip at his earlobes. 

“Shower.” Ryan reminds Michael when his husband pushes down his shorts, “Five minutes.” 

“Dude.” Michael pulls his hands away, “Killing me.” 

“I’ll be hotter clean.” Ryan insists, “Five minutes.” 

Ryan leaves the bathroom door open. It takes him awhile to figure out how to work the excessive number of jets in the shower. He feels instantly better the second the hot water hits his skin. 

He doesn’t bother finding clothes to put on when he gets out. He walks out of the bathroom naked, toothbrush in his mouth to tease Michael and finds him dead asleep with the still unopened champagne bottle beside him. 

Ryan doesn’t bother waking him up. He finishes brushing his teeth before he slips into bed beside Michael. He settles his head close to Michael’s chest and cuddles up to him. 

He thinks vaguely that maybe he should go back and check on the boys one last time but he falls asleep instead.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is clearly not real. 
> 
> Talan is under aged but also entirely fictional so like... I mean he doesn't exist. 
> 
> Please keep reading. I promise it's going somewhere. 
> 
> This chapter is definitely NC-17 
> 
> I've been staring at this chapter for so long I can't even read it straight anymore, I apologize for mistakes/typos.

**Costa Rica, day 1**

Ryan wakes up alone. 

The champagne bottle is back on the dresser and all the curtains are closed. Ryan is still lying like Michael is in bed beside him; his legs are curled around where Michael’s legs must have been and his arm is reaching to the empty space beside him. 

Ryan is boiling under more blankets than he usually sleeps with. He knows Michael hadn’t left out of anger. Wherever Michael is he had taken the time to drape the blankets back over him and to close all the curtains. He’d left and made sure Ryan could sleep in. 

There’s a note on top of the blankets and Ryan holds it away from his face trying to make it out without having to search for Michael’s glasses. 

“Took Tal golfing, back at lunch. Oliver sleeping.” 

Ryan yawns, stretches and reaches for his watch. It’s just past ten. He showers, shaves and changes before heading towards the main part of their cabana. The weather is hot, beautiful and the sky is piercing blue. Ryan’s glad Talan and Michael have a good day for golfing. He idly thinks of going swimming before they get back. 

The boys’ part of their suite is a disaster and Talan is the only one to blame. Ryan picks up shorts, shirts and props up Tal’s surfboards against the wall. There’s a pot of coffee made and Ryan pours himself a cup. It’s lukewarm but he takes a few sips of it before going to check up on Oliver. 

All the curtains are also drawn in Oliver and Talan’s bedroom. Oliver is still asleep covered by as many blankets as Ryan had woken up under. 

“Ols.” Ryan says gently from the doorway, “It’s way late dude wake up.” 

When he doesn’t get an answer, Ryan walks in and draws open the curtains. He kicks a pair of Talan’s flipflops to the side and throws Talan’s comforter back onto his bed. 

“Wake up Oliver.” Ryan says louder. He walks over to the bed and slaps Oliver’s feet through the blankets. 

Ryan is determined to not let Oliver spend another day in bed. He knows how much Michael worries about him and Ryan wants Oliver up and about before Michael and Talan get back from golf. 

“I’m gonna order breakfast.” Ryan says because cold coffee isn’t doing the trick. He sits cross-legged next to Oliver and waits, “What you want?” 

Oliver kicks off the extra blankets onto Ryan’s lap and opens his eyes and gives him a dirty look. 

“You want scrambled eggs?” Ryan ignores Oliver’s anger.

Ryan waits for Oliver to commit to waking up.

“Gator.” Ryan tries again, “Get up to eat.” 

Oliver tries to turn over away from Ryan but Ryan grabs his shoulder to stop him. 

“Come on.” Ryan reaches to brush his hand through Oliver’s messy bed hair; Oliver’s skin is cool. “You don’t have a fever. You can shower before the food gets here.” 

“No soup.” Oliver requests, his voice still half gone. 

“Scrambled eggs?” Ryan offers again, “pancakes?” 

“Mashed potatoes.” Oliver adds to the list, “Bacon.” 

“There ya go!” Ryan says enthusiastically because it’s the first interest Oliver’s shown for food in 48 hours, “I can do that.” 

With what seems like a gargantuan effort, Oliver slowly sits up. He rubs his hands over his face and through his hair.

“I feel okay.” He admits, “Just tired.” 

“Antibiotics are tough.” Ryan reassures. “Go shower.”

“Yeah I’m gross.” Oliver agrees. He makes no move to stand up out of bed or to kick the leftover blankets off, “You can go. I don’t like need help.” He says pointedly. 

Ryan gets that his presence is no longer welcome. Oliver doesn’t want to get out of bed with him still in the room and after getting two boys through most of puberty Ryan’s learned to not ask questions. 

“Stand up slow ‘kay?” Ryan says while standing up, “You feel dizzy be careful.” 

Ryan walks out of the boys’ bedroom but waits near the door listening for a crash. When he hears the shower turn on he calls for room service. 

Ryan orders and half expects Oliver to go back to sleep. While he waits for Oliver to come out or the food to get to their room he finds the golf course pamphlet and wonders if Talan and Michael are playing a full game. There’s orange juice in the fridge and he finds glasses. He pours one for Oliver and sets it at the breakfast bar. 

Ryan hates to admit that he’s bored. 

Fifteen minutes later Oliver walks out dressed and showered. 

“I’m starving.” He tells Ryan. 

It’s Oliver’s first time walking around the cabana and he heads to a window to look outside at the pool and the ocean

“It’s private.” Ryan explains, “The pool’s shared but no one’s in the next place over so it’s ours. We got some good waves today, Tal’s gonna go surfing.” 

“I’m not swimming.” Oliver conditions. 

“All I want is you to eat mashed potatoes.” Ryan sets his expectations, “An’ tell your dad you feel better? He’s worried.” 

“When he gets back.” Oliver agrees, “Where’s everyone?” 

“Tal and Dad are out.” 

“Where are they?” Oliver asks. 

He walks away from the windows and heads to the kitchen area.

“Golfing.” 

Oliver makes a disgruntled noise and impatiently opens and closes the refrigerator doors. 

“Food’s coming.” Ryan reminds him, “We can go sit outside, it’s nice. Better than AC for you.”

Oliver takes the glass of orange juice waiting on the counter drinks a small sip. When it doesn’t hurt he takes a second one. 

“We got coffee coming too.” Ryan tells him, “Come sit outside with me. Bring your juice.”

Ryan holds the door open and Oliver follows him slowly, wrinkling his face at the blast of humidity. He looks unsure about Ryan’s decision to eat outside but sits on one of the patio chairs. He puts his feet up on the table and stares out at the ocean. Ryan sits beside him. 

“It’s nice.” Oliver concedes, “Water’s like super blue.” 

“We’re gonna go fishing tomorrow.” Ryan says, “Way out.” 

“S’your birthday.” Oliver remembers, “That what you wanna do?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees even though a small part of him wants to sleep and be alone with Michael, “Just be with you guys.” 

“Do I gotta get wet to get on the boat?” Oliver asks pained. 

“We’ll get someone to carry you.” Ryan reassures. 

Oliver laughs, shakes his head and takes another drink of orange juice. 

“Your throat still hurt?” Ryan asks because Oliver’s voice sounds shot. It’s raspy and lower than usual. He sounds like an eighty year old who’s been smoking a pack a day for fifth years. 

“No.” Oliver answers, “My voice’s gross though like…” He puts a hand over his throat, “Feels tired.” 

The food is delivered to them out on the patio. As he’s taking the coffee carafe from the cart, Ryan catches Oliver staring at the younger waiter. Oliver notices he’s been caught, quickly gets up holding his empty juice glass and walks back inside. 

“Thanks.” Ryan takes the plates from the young man and puts one in front of him and one in front of where Oliver had been sitting. He tips him and watches the waiter glance back inside the cabana at Oliver before walking away. He sees Oliver try to catch a glimpse of him out of the side windows. 

He has the urge to yell out to the guy who seems to be at least twenty that his son is only seventeen. Instead, Ryan moves the dishes around the table until he finds Oliver’s mashed potatoes. 

“These are for you.” He tells Oliver when his son walks back outside, “Eat.” 

“I’m starving.” Oliver agrees taking a forkful of scrambled eggs from one of the dishes and shoveling it into his mouth. 

Ryan serves himself from the same platters, leaving the mashed potatoes to Oliver. 

“I think he was like twenty.” Ryan says offhandedly.  
“What?” Oliver pretends to be confused, “Who?” 

“Dude.” Ryan rolls his eyes at him, “You were staring.” 

“I wasn’t.” Oliver mumbles taking another bite of food, “whatever.” 

“You’re seventeen.” Ryan reminds him. 

“Yeah. I know.” Oliver answers annoyed. 

“It’d be illegal.” Ryan adds. 

“I was just-” Oliver says embarrassed, “Like whatever.” 

“Like whatever don’t be dumb.” Ryan concludes, “I’m gonna go get your pills.” 

When Ryan comes back with the antibiotics and a glass of water Oliver’s plate is almost empty. 

“Here.” Ryan puts the pill and the water glass in front of Oliver, “I know you’re not dumb dude, I’m sorry… I just don’t want you to-” 

“It’s okay.” Oliver brushes off Ryan’s apology. 

Oliver pushes the rest of the food around the plates before dropping his fork. He takes the pill and swallows it down with some water, wincing. 

“Water hurts.” He affirms, “Dunno why.”

“Want something with slush?” Ryan reaches over to smooth back Oliver’s hair where it stands up the same way Michael’s does. 

“Can it have alcohol?” Oliver asks hopefully. 

“No.” Ryan answers quickly.

“I got nine gold me-” Oliver’s voice cracks before it fades out to silence. 

“I don’t care if you have twenty two.” Ryan says unimpressed, “You’re still seventeen.” 

Oliver clears his throat and grimaces as he swallows. He motions to his throat and shakes his head.

“Maybe take a break from talking.” Ryan suggests, his voice kinder. “Let your voice rest.” 

Oliver nods before clearing his throat again. Ryan reaches back over to keep smoothing down Oliver’s hair and Oliver leans against his touch. 

Oliver draws his knees up and leans back in his chair, turning his face up to the sun. 

“You wanna hang with me for a bit?” Ryan offers, trying to get Oliver to stay up awhile longer. “We got a football.” 

“There’s a hammock.” Oliver answers instead and his voice is so quiet Ryan barely hears him. Oliver tips his head farther back to look at the woven hammock hung between two posts, “I’m gonna read.” 

“I’ll get your book.” Ryan offers, “Where-” 

“I got it Dad.” Oliver says getting up. “I wanna slush drink.” 

Oliver walks back outside barefoot with his book and his sunglasses. He settles himself in the hammock. Ryan props up his feet on the hammock and pushes it slightly making it sway. 

“I want a cheeseburger.” Oliver says, after reading for a few minutes “Or steak.” 

“You can have both for dinner.” Ryan reassures. “What’s your book about?” 

“Space.” Oliver answers, putting the book down on his chest and raising his head up to look at Ryan, “There’s spaceships and stuff.” 

“Nice.” Ryan smiles. 

A different waiter walks in from the beach with a tray of slushed drinks and Ryan hands a tall frosted glass with neon pink slush to Oliver. 

“Pretty good service.” Oliver smiles while taking the drink from Ryan. “Thanks.”

“I don’t like when you’re sick.” Ryan admits.

“Sucks for me too.” Oliver informs him.

“You’re not talking.” Ryan reminds him, “Shh.” 

Ryan keeps rocking the hammock back and forth with his foot. He waits for Oliver to ask him to stop but Oliver doesn’t complain. 

Ryan reaches back for some of the leftover pieces of bacon. He eats it and thinks of going for a swim. 

“You stopped.” Oliver complains, looking up to point at Ryan’s still foot. 

“Sorry.” Ryan starts moving is foot again, “Wanna go play ball with me in the pool?” 

“No.” Oliver turns another page, “I wanna stay here.” 

The hammock sways, Oliver reads and Ryan is bored. 

Ryan has always been amazed that Michael and him, who’d had five books between them when they’d merged their stuff into one house, have raised a boy who loves to read. 

They’d spent hours reading to Oliver. Ryan had read more books during Oliver’s first five years of life than he’d had during his entire college career. Oliver wanted books on dogs and on ships and then picture books hadn’t been enough. Oliver had taught himself to read before starting kindergarten. 

When Michael and Ryan had sat down with the catalogue of potential egg donors they hadn’t had a set idea of what they were looking for. Picking out a stranger to have children with had been surreal and they’d pulled out profiles at random. Not really ever being consistent about the physical attributes, personality traits and family history they wanted to pass onto their children. 

Finally, they’d settled on a tall, blonde, Yale educated volleyball player whose name they’d never learned. She’d had no family history of any significant diseases or mental illness and Ryan had joked that her higher than average IQ might balance out with their own and give their kids a fighting chance. 

They’d never really given the volleyball player much thought after that. 

Yet, sometimes both of the boys show characteristics that neither Michael nor Ryan can attribute to their own genetics like Talan’s perpetual white blonde hair and Oliver’s blue eyes. Reminders that somewhere a still nameless woman is partly responsible for creating the two people who have become their entire world. 

At Oliver’s graduation, while listening to him make his valedictorian speech, Ryan had thought he might burst. Watching the baby he’d held in the NICU, the toddler he’d taught to walk and the kid who’d been taller than everyone else in his kindergarten class stand in front of his entire class and all of their family to talk about the future had been overwhelming. It was the first time Ryan had realized that Oliver was grown up, that he was leaving and that there was nothing they could do to make time slow down. 

When Oliver had been a four pound preemie in the NICU Michael and Ryan had reassured each other by saying that one day they’d be teaching him how to drive and packing him up for college. It had seemed so far away back then and Ryan has no idea how time had moved this fast. 

“Hey.” Ryan gives the hammock a stronger kick to get Oliver’s attention. 

“I’ll play with you lemme finish my page.” Oliver says hoarsely not looking up. 

“No.” Ryan rolls his eyes at his kid, “I’m glad you’re good.” 

It’s not really what Ryan wants to say. Ryan wants to tell Oliver once again that he’s proud of him. That he’s going to miss him when he goes to college. 

“You’re a good nurse.” Oliver drops his book to look at him. “Who’s gonna get me mashed potatoes at Harvard?” 

“The meal plan we pay for.” Ryan reaches up to kick Oliver’s leg, “If you’re real sick I’ll fly down. Sleep on the floor in your dorm.” 

“Ha yeah.” Oliver laughs, “That’ll get me cool points.” 

“You’re too cool for me s’ok.” Ryan holds his hands up. 

“No.” Oliver takes it back, “Like it’s… I’ll miss you guys.” 

“We’ll miss you too.” Ryan reassures not wasting time with jokes. 

Ryan remembers how much of a relief it had been to leave for college how both him and his dads were close to their wits end with each other. He can’t ever imagine feeling this way about Oliver. 

“How warm’s the pool?” Oliver asks curiously, “Like s’it heated?” 

“Think so.” Ryan confirms, “Wanna try?” 

“Yeah.” Oliver concedes, “I need to like move.” 

*

The club rules clearly state that no one under the age of eighteen is allowed to drive the golf carts but Michael lets Talan drive anyways. The total joy on Talan’s face is worth the trouble they might get into. 

“Five feet that woulda been a hole in one.” Talan says as they drive away from their last hole, “Could have totally made that.” 

Talan’s last shot had been a few dozen feet away from the hole but Michael chooses to let his youngest believe he was only five feet off. 

“You played good.” Michael confirms

“Maybe if we play tomorrow I can get it.” Talan theorizes. 

“We’re going out on the boat tomorrow.” Michael reminds him. “For dad’s birthday.”

“Day after.” Talan tries again. 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees.

Talan opens his palm over the steering wheel to stretch out his fingers before wrapping them back around. His grip is loose but Michael doesn’t bother correcting him because he knows he holds the steering wheel the exact same way. Talan is just imitating. 

Talan will be sixteen in four months and they’ve already been looking for a car. Unlike Oliver who’d handed them a list of the models he was interested in, Talan is all over the place. Before leaving for Rotterdam, he’d brought them computer print outs of pre-owned pickup trucks he’d found for sale online. He could use a pickup to bring his surfing gear to the beach and since it was going to get trashed by the sand and the salt water he didn’t see the point of getting a brand new one. Impressed by his dedication to the research Michael hadn’t had the heart to tell Talan that in no known universe did he trust him driving a pre-owned car. 

They take a way too sharp turn and Michael has to hold onto the roof of the cart to keep himself from falling off. 

“Sorry.” Talan apologizes, “Sorry sorry.” 

“What was that?” Michael looks behind them for whatever obstacle Talan had to avoid hitting. 

Instead of finding a turtle, a palm tree or a cliff edge Michael sees a blonde teenage girl in cut off shorts a few feet away. 

“She’s cute.” Michael points out. 

“What?” Talan pretends to not have noticed, “No… Like-” 

“She’s looking over here.” Michael tells Talan, “Think she sees you too.” 

“Please.” Talan begs. 

Talan’s face turns a shade of red Michael wasn’t sure existed in the Lochte DNA makeup. He gives one more quick sideways glance to the girl and turns his stare right back to the pathway. 

“They’re staying at the resort.” Michael notes, “Probably gonna run into them.” 

“Ok stop looking.” Talan tries to command, “Come on.” 

“I’m just trying to help you.” Michael defends his actions.

“I can look at girls without your help okay.” Talan says embarrassed, “Don’t tell Dad.” 

Michael entertains the idea of teasing Talan further but decides against it. Talan isn’t Oliver and Talan isn’t Ryan. Talan doesn’t always get the difference between good-natured jokes and being made fun of. 

“I think she’d like it if you went and talked to her.” Michael says instead. He has a hard time believing that he’s giving girl advice to anyone let alone Ryan Lochte’s progeny. 

“Or she’ll think I’m dumb and gross.” Talan counters. 

“You’re not those things.” Michael assures, “You’re a good looking guy.” 

“Oh god.” Talan groans, “Stop please.” 

They’re too far from the girl to go back and Michael drops the subject. He drops his arm on the back of the bench and kicks his feet up on the dash trusting Talan to not almost kill them again. 

“What d’you want to do the rest of the day?” Michael asks venturing into safe territories. 

“Ocean.” Talan answers and he sounds excited again, “Kinda flat to surf but I can like float around. Wake board. Snorkel.” 

“I need to see you swim first Tal.” Michael reminds him. 

“No.” Talan shrugs it off, “I can swim.”

“Riptides are no joke here.” Michael affirms, “I wanna make sure you’re gonna be okay.” 

“God.” Talan rolls his eyes in clear protest at the injustice of his life, “Why no one’s believe I can swim.” 

“I know you can swim.” Michael clarifies, “I just gotta see that you’re good to-” 

“’Fraid I put your cred to shame?” Talan challenges, “Some dude’s gonna see me swim, know you’re my dad and take your medals?” 

“Now that’s dumb.” Michael points out, “You gotta be safe. Turn here to park.” 

They drop off the golf cart and Talan’s rentals back at the clubhouse and grab drinks for the walk back to their rooms. Michael asks three times to make sure what Talan is taking doesn’t contain alcohol. Unsatisfied by the vague answer of the bartender he takes a sip of the drink before handing it over to his kid. 

“Safe to drink?” Talan rolls his eyes at him, “Not gonna be poisoned?” 

“Drink it.” Michael orders before taking a sip of his own beer, “Don’t be a brat.” 

They choose to walk on the beach, crossing beyond the regular resort sites into the more secluded area where the cabanas are located. There’s a small sign pointing to a nude beach and Michael prays that Talan doesn’t notice it. 

“No waves.” Talan says disappointed pointing at the ocean. 

The flat ocean doesn’t alleviate Michael’s worries. 

He’s afraid that Talan doesn’t have the endurance to swim against a riptide long enough to get to safety. He’s afraid of his youngest drowning, being carried out to sea or fighting against waves that are too big for him.

When the Oliver had still been a toddler and Talan had been a baby they’d taken a family trip to Hawaii. Michael had had a recurring nightmare of Oliver floating away from him in the ocean. No matter how fast he swam he could never get to him in time. The dream still haunts him and sending his boys out into the ocean still makes him nervous. If Michael had it his way, both boys would still be in floaties - Olympic medals or not. 

“I beat Oliver.” Talan reminds Michael, like he’s aware of what Michael’s thinking “Don’t forget.” 

Michael decides not to tell Talan that he probably won’t ever forget Oliver challenging a trash talking Talan to a race at Meadowbrooks and Talan actually touching the wall a second before Oliver. Oliver had been angry enough after the race that there was no doubt he’d given it his all. 

Michael doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the look on Bob’s face either. Bob had valiantly campaigned to get Talan to swim practice and Talan had lasted half a morning into it before he’d hoisted himself out of the pool, barricaded himself in Bob’s office and called Michael begging for a ride back home. 

Talan had mournfully recounted every single horrible minute of his two-hour swim ordeal to Debbie who’d listened attentively while making him a grilled cheese sandwich.

Talan’s potential as a swimmer is mind blowing and he’s never had any interest in pursuing it. Michael doesn’t let himself imagine Talan as a swimmer anymore, doesn’t bother to think about the clearly wasted potential. Talan is like Ryan; unless it’s fun things don’t ever get done. Talan would be miserable as a swimmer and Michael can’t stand being the reason for a miserable Talan. 

“I just wanna make sure you’re swimming so you can go long.” Michael reassures, “I don’t want you getting tired in a riptide.” 

“I’d be fine.” Talan answers, “You’d come after me.” 

“What if I’m not there?” Michael challenges, “It’ll take half an hour max.” 

Talan grumbles and agrees. The beach where they are now is wider and not as busy. On their way to the golf course in the morning Michael had noticed that most of the other cabanas were empty. The only reason they are there and not in the main part of the resort is because of Oliver’s status and the resort throwing in a few business meetings with Michael about something to do with golf. 

“Hey we’re back.” Talan notes pointing to their cabana, “Dad and Ols are in the pool.” 

Michael looks up and sees Oliver take a running leap into the pool. The difference from the night before is astounding and half of his worries fade away. A quick google search of nearby hospitals the night before had convinced him that Costa Rica wasn’t somewhere he wanted anyone in his family to end up in a hospital. 

“SIX.” Talan yells out, judging Oliver’s splash. “That was weak.” 

Talan takes off down the beach at a run heading towards the stairs leading up to the pool. He looses a flip-flop along the way and Michael picks it up as he walks up behind him. 

Oliver is floating on his back near the deep end with his sunglasses perched on his head. Ryan is leaning against the side of the pool throwing a well-worn football at Talan who runs to catch it before throwing it back. 

Michael walks over to the edge of the pool closest to Ryan and crouches down to kiss him. 

“D’you sleep in?” Michael asks once he pulls away. 

Michael kicks off his shoes and sits down on the concrete slipping both his legs into the water, one on each side of Ryan who tosses the football to Oliver before turning around to face Michael. 

“Yeah.” Ryan rests his forearms over the top of Michael’s thighs and looks up, “Too many blankets though.” 

“You were cold when I got up.” Michael pushes Ryan’s hair off his forehead, “Ols good?”

“Yeah. He’s eating.” Ryan says relieved, “He’s out of bed. He wants a cheeseburger.” 

“Then we get him a cheeseburger.” Michael smiles reassured, “We’ll go to the resort to eat dinner.” 

“I know where I wanna go.” Ryan says suggestively lowering his voice and winking at his husband, “These dudes are good to play on their own for a bit?” 

Michael nods in agreement before he can think because it’s what Ryan’s always done to him. 

Ryan is tanned and still in good shape, his shoulders and forearms are covered in freckles that Michael’s traced with his fingers millions of times of the years. He leans back on his elbows against the sun warm concrete and waits for Ryan to hoist himself out of the pool. 

A football hits Michael square in the middle of the chest. Talan is standing on the other side of the pool staring at him. 

“I wanna go out in the ocean.” Talan says, “you gotta see me swim.” 

“He knows how to swim.” Ryan speaks up for Tal, “Mike c’mon.” 

“No.” Michael groans telling Ryan, “I wanna make sure he’s holding himself up good if he’s gotta swim for awhile or-” 

“You’re serious?” Ryan asks. 

“Yeah.” Michael says cautiously, “Riptides are crazy here they told us when we booked.” 

Ryan lets out a frustrated breath before pushing off the wall to where Talan is standing. 

“Go get changed.” Ryan instructs, “Fastest swimming school ever. You don’t even know.” 

“I just wanna surf.” Talan shrugs, “I can swim.” 

* 

Talan walks back outside in board shorts. His arms are crossed self consciously across his chest and he dips his foot carefully in the pool water before taking it back out and waiting expectantly for someone to tell him what to do. 

Oliver is out of the pool and sitting in a deck chair beside where Michael is standing at the edge of the pool. Ryan walks outside behind Talan holding a whistle and a pair of goggles. 

“Talan, want goggles?” Ryan holds them up to him.

“No.” Talan says horrified, “I don’t wanna look like a dork.” 

“Too late.” Oliver calls out. 

“Hey.” Talan looks at Michael outraged, “He’s not helping.” 

“I’m like an expert.” Oliver answers. “People’d pay me money to teach ‘em to swim.” 

“I’d pay you to shut up.” Talan retorts. 

“Come off it.” Michael lightly hits the back of Oliver’s head. “Tal get in the pool.”

“Yeah no if everyone’s gonna watch. Wanna skype in Grandpa too?” Talan self-consciously rubs a hand through his hair and takes a step back from the edge of the pool. 

“I was here first.” Oliver argues from his chair. “Show me what you got.” 

“For the record.” Talan calls out dramatically, “This sucks. I hate everyone.” 

“Yeah get in.” Michael says again. 

Shaking his head, Talan backs up to get a running start to cannon ball into the pool. His entry splash soaks Oliver and Talan resurfaces gleeful. 

“Asshole.” Oliver calls out to Talan furious, “You fucking-” 

Oliver can’t finish his insult before Ryan tips his chair forward and send his oldest son flailing into the water. 

“Really Ry?” Michael sighs over Talan’s laughter. 

“S’not like he can’t swim.” Ryan rationalizes, he points to Oliver resurfacing. “See he’s good.” 

“Really?” Oliver treads water and looks at Ryan outraged, “I coulda drowned.” 

“I had nine gold medals that said you’d be good.” Ryan shrugs, “I was right. Dude you can touch you don’t gotta work for it.” 

Oliver stops treading water and stands on the bottom with water up to his shoulders. 

“I’m sick!” He calls out to Ryan. 

“You’re fine.” Ryan reassures. 

Talan swims past Oliver not caring about his brother’s near death experience, he kicks off the wall and keeps free strokes back towards Michael 

“Hips up Talan.” Michael calls from the side of the pool. “Your body’s a straight line. Reach for- your elbow above your wrist.” 

Talan stops swimming and stands to look up at him annoyed. 

“I dunno what you mean.” He admits, “You gotta show me.” 

“You want to lift your hips.” Michael moves his hand up, “So everything is a straight line. Your shoulders, your legs, your hips. Straight. Don’t look forward. You look up, your hips drop.” 

“Where do I gotta look?” Talan asks puzzled, he swims towards the edge of the pool to be closer to Michael. “What if there’s something like there?” 

“Look up at an angle.” Michael tries to explain, “Your head down but look up.” 

“I don’t get this.” Talan repeats. “I’m going in a straight line so like… I ain’t gonna be racing I’m surfing.” 

“Try.” Michael urges seconds from defaulting this lesson over to Ryan because he knows Ryan will have more success explaining the finer points of freestyle. He gives himself another try, hoping that swim strokes are imprinted on some part of Talan’s DNA. 

Talan pushes himself off the wall. He swims a full lap with his body totally straight before he stops and looks up at Michael for approval. 

“You can’t swim flat.” Michael sighs, “You’re gonna hurt yourself.” 

“You said a straight line.” Talan points out, “Which one is it?” 

“You have to go side to side.” Michael tries to demonstrate as best he can out of the water, “You stay straight you’re gonna hurt your shoulders. You gotta breathe” 

“Does it matter?” Talan keeps treading water. 

“Yes.” Michael answers, “You don’t want to get hurt or be slower than-” 

“What am I racing?” Talan asks, “I’m not even gonna be swimming out, they got jet skis.” 

“You wipe out.” Michael holds up a finger, “You bail, you get caught in a riptide, you lose your board, you get pulled under, the jet ski tips over.” 

“A shark eats me, aliens come and suck me up-”

“It’s not a joke Talan.” Michael doesn’t laugh, “Ocean’s dangerous.”

“I got a giant floating thing strapped to my ankle!” Talan keeps arguing, “What’s gonna happen to me?” 

“You get sucked back in the wave and your strap comes off.” Ryan calls out deathly serious, “We don’t see you and you’re alone.” 

Talan doesn’t say anything. 

“You keep your head down.” Ryan barks, “Your body’s straight to the bottom of the pool. When you reach forward.” Ryan reaches up with his right side and turns his left side. “Your body pivots, if you’re right side’s outta the pool, your left side’s in it.” 

“You’re like super intense-” Talan reproaches. 

“Yeah it’s not funny.” Ryan cuts him off, “Go.” 

Talan looks at Ryan for a second in disbelief and Ryan blows the whistle at him. 

“Go.” Ryan repeats himself. 

Talan rolls his eyes.

“Next time Michael Phelps tries to teach you to swim you shut up and listen.” Ryan points out, “Swim. Go.”

“Ry-” Michael cuts in because in his opinion Ryan is just as good and he’d been trying to teach Talan as a dad, not as Michael Phelps. 

Talan doesn’t argue though. He pushes off the wall and starts swimming again. Ryan watches him intently for a few seconds before walking back over to stand next to Michael.

“You can’t baby him.” Ryan points out, “He’s a punk.” 

“Who d’you think-” 

“Talan stop.” Ryan blows his whistle again, interrupting Michael. 

“What?” Talan brushes wet hair out of his face. 

“You ain’t gonna go faster making half assed strokes. You gotta reach forward. Oliver show him.” 

“Why me?” Oliver complains from the side of the pool. 

“’Cause you’re already wet.” Ryan explains. “Go.” 

“You pushed me in!” Oliver argues. 

“Show your brother.” Ryan asks, “Go.” 

Michael watches Oliver do two laps of the pool, cringing when Oliver chooses to turn in the shallow end, before he decides that Ryan has this training session down. 

“I’m gonna go change.” Michael tells Ryan, “Make Ols stop flipping in the shallow end.” 

Ryan blows his whistle again. 

“Can you stop?” Oliver says annoyed, “I’m out.” 

*

Michael walks back to his bedroom, undresses and gets in the shower. He stays longer than usual hoping for Ryan to come join him. Finally, when the water is more lukewarm than hot he shuts off the tap and towels off. He gets dressed and walks back out to what he half hopes to be a pool without any kids in it. 

Instead he finds Talan sitting in one of the chairs. 

“Why aren’t you in the water?” Michael asks dropping in the chair next to where Talan is sulking. 

“Gotta wait for the sunscreen to absorb.” Talan rolls his eyes, “You timing?” 

Michael can’t even begin to understand the hypocrisy Ryan is displaying. He knows that Ryan does these things out of love, that he doesn’t want Talan to burn but Michael can’t remember Ryan ever wearing sunscreen. 

“No.” Michael holds up both his bare wrists, “Took my watch off-” 

“I’M TIMING.” Ryan’s voice calls out from inside, “FIVE MINUTES.” 

“Ten minutes.” Talan repeats. “It doesn’t even rub in. Look!” 

Talan rubs his hand against his arm and the white lotion streaks across his skin. Michael can see Ryan’s handprints still on Talan’s back, he reaches over to try and spread the sunscreen even more. 

“Hey no!” Talan jerks away, “S’bad enough dad does it inside like.” 

He frowns embarrassed and darts a look beyond Michael across the beach. Michael turns to look. The girl from before, who’s equally as blonde as Talan, is wading knee deep in the ocean with her family a ways down the beach. 

“Oh.” Michael suddenly understands the seriousness of the situation. 

“God.” Talan drops his head, “Don’t look too.” 

“They didn’t see me Tal.”

Talan sinks further into his beach chair and Michael’s heart squeezes. Talan is in brand new bright green and pink board shorts. They sit way lower on his hips than Michael feels comfortable about. He has a tan line from his glasses across the bridge of his nose and part of his hand is still less tanned than the rest of him from his Fourth of July fireworks injury. 

Even though he’s hiding in his beach chair Talan is still staring at the girl.

“Go talk to her.” Michael encourages, “Say hi.” 

“No.” Talan refuses, “I can’t do that.” 

“Yeah you can Baby.” Michael reassures, “Ask her where she’s from. Tell her you’re from Florida.” 

“No.” 

“She’s your age Tal.” Michael guesses. “Go talk to her. You can do it.” 

“No thank you.” Talan refuses again. 

“Say you’re here to surf.” Michael tries to boost Tal’s confidence, “That you’re sponsored and you have a shoot. She’ll think that’s cool.” 

Part of why they’d chosen Costa Rica for a vacation was to allow Talan to surf bigger waves with the team of the company that occasionally sent him board shorts and surfboards. One of the pro riders had remembered Talan from his win at the junior competition and had promised he would take him out surfing. 

“I can’t just walk over there.” Talan tries to explain, “I’ll look like a dork.” 

“Hey, if I hadn’t gone up to your dad-” 

“Gross.” Talan complains shaking his head, “Don’t talk about dad.” 

“You did look like a dork walking up to me.” Ryan confirms walking around from the house to the deck, “You can go out Talan, it’s been fifteen minutes. Just wait-” 

Ryan reaches for Tal as soon as the kid stands and tugs up his board shorts. 

“You’re gonna loose ‘em.” Ryan manages to say before Talan hits his hands away. “Tie a knot.” 

“OH MY GOD.” Talan gets up and speed towards the beach. His board shorts settle back down low over his hips. 

Talan doesn’t turn back to look at them until he’s waist deep in the ocean. 

“What did I do?” Ryan asks curiously.

“You embarrassed him in front of a girl.” Michael explains, pointing out the family.

“He’ll be more embarrassed when he looses his trunks.” Ryan says matter of fact. 

They both watch Tal out into the ocean. He turns his back to crashing waves until he’s far enough to dive in. 

“Where’s Ols?” Michael asks, moving sideways in his chair to make room for Ryan. 

“Reading.” Ryan settles half on the chair and half on Michael, “Probably napping he’s tired.”

“He’ll feel better tomorrow.” Michael pats Ryan’s side, “Antibiotics are tough on him.” 

“He’s better now.” Ryan says. He focuses on Talan for a bit, watching him float on his back along with the waves, “Wanna head in?” 

“Yeah.” Michael decides Talan is safe in the water by himself for a while. There are lifeguards on the beach. 

“You gonna fall asleep on me this time?” Ryan asks. He moves so he’s half straddling Michael, his arms resting on the back of the chair. 

“No.” Ryan is shirtless and Michael leans back to take it all in, “Let’s go.” 

*

By the time Michael locks the door of their bedroom Ryan is standing by the bed naked and already half hard. 

“Want this?” Ryan asks slowly jacking himself off, running his thumb over the head of his cock to smear precum. 

“Fuck Ry.” Michael takes his shirt off and crosses the room. 

Michael closes his fist over Ryan’s wrist until Ryan’s hand drops away. Michael replaces Ryan’s hand with his own and strokes him slowly. 

“Yeah Mike.” Ryan groans, “Like that.” 

It’s not romantic or slow or tender. Eventually one of the boys will realize they’re missing so their time alone is limited. Michael takes off his pants while Ryan grabs the lube from the bathroom. He fingers himself open spread across the bed to give Michael a show. 

“You’re fucking hot.” Ryan says watching Michael strip and walk across the room, “I’m lucky.” 

It’s stuff Ryan’s been saying since they were twenty and it gets Michael every time. 

Michael climbs on top of Ryan, grabs one of his legs and props Ryan’s foot up against his shoulder. He leans forward and pushes in. Ryan lifts his hips up to meet him and they both groan when Michael bottoms out. 

They haven’t had sex in weeks and both of them are desperate for each other. 

Ryan’s foot drops off Michael’s shoulder and his leg falls against Michael’s side until Michael holds it up and kisses Ryan’s calf. 

There’s no teasing. Michael’s rhythm is fast and hard, he slows down when he feels Ryan press up against him, keeping him in longer. Michael bends forward to suck on Ryan’s neck before moving to kiss his lips. He moves in deep for a few strokes knowing it’s usually what gets Ryan off the quickest.

“I’m close.” Michael admits embarrassed when he pulls away from Ryan. He can usually last longer but after almost a month without sex he knows he won’t last long. 

Ryan leans his head sideways to bite his arm. He pushes his hips up against Michael and jerks himself off with his free hand. 

“Like that Mike.” Ryan moans all stretched out on the bed and tanned. His lips are swollen from being bitten and his chest is heaving. 

Michael can still see his teeth mark on Ryan’s neck. He groans, slowing down his thrusts for a few seconds to stop himself from cumming right away. 

“Don’t.” Ryan complains, moving back against him, forcing Michael to thrust in deep “Please MP.” 

“Yeah Ry beg.” Michael asks, going back to pumping fast, “What you want?” 

“Like that.” Ryan cries out, arching his back and tightening his grip on his cock, “Yeah fuck me, I can feel you pulling out, you’re so fucking big-” 

His string of dirty talk keeps going and Michael tries to concentrate on anything but Ryan’s voice and how tight he is. 

“Love you don’t stop. Please.” 

Michael’s not embarrassed to admit that Ryan saying I love you is what pushes him over the edge. He pulls out, kneels up over Ryan and jerks himself off a few times before he cums over Ryan’s chest and stomach. 

“Shit.” He breathes out leaning down to kiss Ryan, “I love you.” 

Michael breaks the kiss and moves down on the bed. He knocks Ryan’s hand away and sucks down on Ryan’s head while he jerks him off. He drops his hand and let’s Ryan thrust into his mouth. He reaches down to slip two fingers back into Ryan, curling them until Ryan thrusts up and cries out. 

Ryan doesn’t loosen the grip he has on the back of Michael’s head and Michael can’t move away. He’s forced to swallow and when he pulls his mouth off to look at Ryan, Ryan smiles at him apologetically. 

“I couldn’t think.” Ryan apologizes. “Fuck.” 

Ryan’s body is limp and he’s grinning, one of his hands wraps back around his dick and he strokes himself slowly. 

“Fuck you.” Michael shakes his head, “Punk.”

He kisses Ryan hard, shoving his tongue in Ryan’s mouth and Ryan doesn’t even bother squirming away. 

“I don’t care.” Ryan laughs when he moves away, “That was awesome.” 

Michael reaches for the tissue box on the bedside table and hands a handful to Ryan so he can clean himself off. 

“I missed you.” Michael allows himself admit, lying back against his pillow next to Ryan, “Like being-” 

Close. Michael misses being close to Ryan. He misses sleeping closer to the middle of the bed than to the edge. He misses feeling Ryan’s skin against his. He misses hearing Ryan say he loves him. 

“Me too.” Ryan agrees.  
Ryan throws the tissue into the wastebasket and curls up against Michael. He rests his head against Michael’s chest and closes his eyes ready to nap. He relishes the feeling of Michael’s arm around him, of Michael’s fingers on his skin. 

“Hey we can’t.” Michael shakes Ryan awake, “We got the guys. Tal’s still swimming.” 

Ryan groans but sits up after a minute. He grabs his watch and holds it away from his face to look at the time. 

“I gotta shower.” He says getting out of bed, “You made me gross.”

“Yeah.” Michael rolls his eyes, “Blame me.” 

“Go check on Tal.” Ryan asks, “Make sure he’s good in the water.”

“Tal knows how to swim.” 

“He’s not Ols.” Ryan says walking into the bathroom and starting the shower.

“Want me to put floaties on him?” Michael teases good-naturedly. He has a flashback to the bright orange Finding Nemo arm floaties Talan had worn as a toddler. 

“Watch him.” Ryan repeats anyways.

“Bet he’s good for like…” Michael walks into the bathroom after Ryan and steps into the shower, “Five more minutes.” 

*

Twenty minutes later, both of them walk out of the master bedroom. Ryan goes to wake up Oliver and Michael, wearing swimming trunks, goes off to find Talan. He grabs the football Ryan and Talan had been throwing around and heads towards the ocean. 

The water isn’t as warm as the pool and Michael has to force himself to dive in. He swims towards Talan. Talan spots him and swims back towards shore

“You my life guard?” Tal asks once they’re close enough to each other. 

Talan’s strokes are lazy, barely strong enough to propel him anywhere but just enough to keep him from drifting. It’s one of the first times Michael notices how gangly the kid is getting.

“Wanna throw the ball?” Michael shows the football Ryan had brought from home. It once had the Raven’s logo emblazoned on it, but the colour has faded over the years only leaving part of the leather slightly more faded than the rest. 

“Yeah!” Talan says enthusiastically, “Go long!” 

“You go long.” Michael pushes at Talan’s shoulder. “I’m old.” 

Talan is fast despite the waves. Michael watches his strokes and his kicks and easily sees how good Talan could be. It’s comforting to see how at ease Talan is swimming in the ocean. Michael figures that maybe they can relax a little about the surfing. 

“I wanna see a spiral!” Talan yells. 

Talan’s voice brings Michael back to earth. He briefly searches for his kid and spots Talan’s bright green and pink boardshorts a few yards away. He notices that Talan’s chosen a spot close to where the girl from the beach is still floating along in an inner tube. 

They play catch for a bit, Talan easily throwing the ball far enough that Michael has to swim for it every time. The ball eventually gets heavier and heavier until Michael holds it above the water, watching it drip water from every seam. 

“I think our balls taking water.” He announces sadly, “Wanna head back?” 

“No!” Talan cries out, “Play some more please.” 

Michael is tired, working against the waves is hard work and he’s not as in shape as he’d like to be. 

“Aim for me?” He asks Talan before throwing the football to his son. 

Talan throws and the ball purposefully sails over Michael’s head and lands ten feet behind him. Talan’s grin tells him it wasn’t an accident. 

“Come on Tal.” Michael complains swimming out to get it. 

Michael glances around, the current has forced them to drift away from their cabana and closer to the blonde girls’ family. Michael throws the ball long; it misses Talan by twenty feet and hits the water right beside the girl’s inner tube. 

“You did not.” Talan turns back to look at Michael betrayed. 

“Go get the ball Tal.” Michael grins, “I’m heading in.” 

*

Talan is left awkwardly standing in chest deep water while the blonde girl holds his football and waves at him. 

Talan gives another pained look at his father who’s already back to shore and sighs deeply before swimming over to the girl. This time he has no trouble keeping his head down. 

“Here.” The girl says when he surfaces near her, “Your ball.” 

Talan whips wet hair off his face and smiles shyly at her.

“Thanks.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady and low, “My dad can’t throw.” 

“I’m Ava.” She says, kicking her foot in the water to push herself closer to Talan, “We got here four days ago.” 

“We got here yesterday.” Talan adds in, “I’m Talan.” 

He holds out his hand to shake hers and thinks too late that this has to be the lamest thing he’s ever done in his entire life. She shakes it anyways and he tries to hide his embarrassment. 

“I’m a surfer.” He adds to make up for the handshake, “Like I have a sponsor and I’m gonna go do a shoot this week if the waves are good.” 

“That’s cool.” Ava says unimpressed, “I’m from South Dakota, we don’t have ocean there. I don’t know how to swim so I float.”

“That’s good like-” Talan flounders for words, “You won’t drown.” 

“Yeah.” She narrows her eyes at him, “You swim good I saw you.” 

“Thanks.” Talan smiles and brings his hand up to rub the back of his neck, “I could like teach you?” 

“I don’t like my face to be in the water.” She says quickly as warning. 

“Yeah I don’t either.” Talan reassures, “It’s okay.” 

Ava slips out of her inner tube and Talan tries not to stare at her two piece bathing suit. He stares at the beach instead and spots both his dads watching him from their deck. 

“Ok so what do I do?” Ava asks. 

“I can teach you to float?” Talan offers, “I can’t float but like neither can my dad and he’s a really good swimmer. You gotta go on your back, I’ll hold you up.” 

“You’re gonna hold me up?” Ava asks, “How do I trust you?” 

“I dunno.” Talan shrugs, “I wouldn’t like drop you.” 

He watches Ava think the deal over. She has four piercings on her left ear and a beauty mark just above the edge of her bikini top. There are friendship bracelets tied to both of her wrist and worn out paper bracelets that have shriveled up to thin bands. Talan holds his own wrist up showing a similar array of mismatched ones. 

“If you get my face wet I’ll be mad.” She conditions. 

“I get your face wet you can splash me.” He offers, “Or dunk me I don’t care.” 

“Okay.” Ava agrees. 

She takes a step closer to him and Talan automatically takes a step back. 

“You’re holding me up.” She reminds him. 

“Yeah.” Talan nods. He hadn’t thought that holding her up meant touching her. He’s never touched a girl let alone touched one who was in a bikini. “Okay.” 

Ava steps closer to him again and he holds out his arm, letting her lean back against it. Her hair fans out in the water behind her and Talan sees that her eyebrows are as pale as his own, barely noticeable. 

“Ok yeah, kick your legs up.” Talan’s voice cracks and he feels like drowning himself, “And you gotta like push up your hips.” 

He holds his hand under her legs and pushes up slightly, holding her under water, feeling how weightless she is. 

“I saw you golfing.” She says with her eyes closed. 

“Yeah.” Talan perks up, “I saw you too.” 

“This is fun.” Ava kicks her feet, propelling herself a few feet away from Talan.

Talan swims up to be close to her again. Reaches back out to hold her. 

Ava floats along with the ocean’s swell, her eyes closed and her lips slightly parted. Talan allows himself relax. He kicks off the bottom and swims away from shore, bringing Ava along with him. He keeps one of his hands resting on her lower back, pushing her hips up to keep her afloat. His fingers brush along the edge of her bikini bottoms and he moves it away quickly.

“Hey!” Ava protests. She opens her eyes wide and lifts her head to look at the shore, “We’re too far out.” 

“No.” Talan reassures, “I’m touching.” 

He stands up to prove his point but it doesn’t reassure Ava who flips herself off her back and trashes in the water. 

“Hey!” Talan says concerned, “No it’s okay. It’s okay. I got you.” 

Ava wasn’t over exaggerating her inability to swim. She thrashes around trying to keep her head above water. Her face is panicked and Talan tries to stay calm. 

“I touch. Look it’s okay.” Talan reaches out to her and wraps his arms around her waist pulling her close. He holds her up until she stops panicking. 

“Sorry.” Ava apologizes. She’s breathing hard and her eyes are wide. She coughs before reaching to loop her arms around Talan’s neck. 

Her legs float close to his chest and Talan bends his arm to hold them up. He curls his other arm around her back. She’s pressed against him, her face inches from his neck, he can feel her breath on his skin. 

“I got you.” Talan says again, “Sorry I just like zoned out.” 

Talan pushes off the bottom of the ocean and kicks hard to get a few feet closer to shore. He brings Ava along with him and tests the depth. He has water just over his waist but doesn’t let her go. 

“You touch here.” He reassures. 

He gently lets go of her legs but she doesn’t let go of his neck. She stands in front of him still holding on. Talan can feel her breasts pressed against his chest and he keeps his arm wrapped across her back. He watches water drip down her hair to her shoulders and down her arms. It’s mesmerizing and he would almost drown a hundred times over to be this close to her a few more times. 

“Thanks.” Ava finally says. She lets go of his neck and bends backwards to dip her head in the water, slicking her hair back off her forehead, “You like saved me.” 

“Um yeah.” Talan shrugs it off, regrettably letting go of her too. “Wasn’t like… You weren’t gonna drown. I took like lifeguarding classes.” 

Talan isn’t exactly sure being sent to the showers with Brady half an hour into the class for pretending to make out with the CPR dummies counts as being a fully certified lifeguard. He decides that Ava doesn’t need to know all the details. 

“You’re really like a surfer?” Ava asks stepping closer to him again. 

“Yeah.” Talan nods, “I won like a kinda big competition. I’m gonna go surfing with them this week if the waves are good. There’s a good spot off the resort it’s gonna be awesome.” 

He carefully reaches out to touch her again, grazing his knuckles against her hipbone before pulling his hand back. 

“You’re like my hero.” Ava decides walking closer to shore until she has water to her knees.

Talan follows and he only has water to his calves. 

“I have to go.” Ava announces, “The lifeguards are going away and I said I’d go back. Come back to the beach tonight? I’ll be here.” 

“Yeah.” Talan agrees without thinking that he probably still has a curfew on vacation. “We can like hang out.” 

“I can get beer.” Ava promises, “My brother got an adult bracelet he’ll get it for me.” 

“I gotta have dinner with my family but after we can come back here.” Talan repeats, not wanting to lose the blonde girl to the resort. He doesn’t want her to go back to being the girl across the beach. He wants her to stay Ava. Wants to be able to hold her again. 

“You saved my life.” Ava tells him gravely.

Talan is about to shrug off his newfound hero status when Ava stands up on her tiptoes and kisses him. 

Talan’s never kissed a girl before but he doesn’t have time to think about all the things he has no idea how to do. 

Ava tastes like salt water and smells like coconut sunscreen. Her hand holds onto his arm. He reaches out for her and wraps his fingers over her side. It feels like lighting fireworks and going too fast on his skateboard. 

She opens her mouth and slips her tongue into his mouth and Talan stops caring about anything else. He puts his other hand on her hip and pulls her in closer. Feeling her cold skin pressed against him, he wants to warm her up and keep her close. 

She pulls away and rests both her hands on his chest. 

“I gotta go.” She says, “I’ll see you later.” 

“Um yeah.” Talan answers dazed, he feels like he’s just fallen off his skateboard and hit his head against pavement. He feels dizzy and drunk. 

“You’ll be here” 

“I’ll like be here.” 

“Like promise?” She takes his hand and intertwines their fingers. 

“Yeah.” Talan squeezes her hand, “I’ll be here.” 

She kisses him again quickly before dropping his hand and walking out to the beach. Talan watches her pick up her sandals and her beach bag. He waves when she turns back to look at him before disappearing behind the cluster of palm trees that hides the beach access from the main resort path. 

Once she’s gone he realizes that it’s not longer as warm as it had been outside. The lifeguards are gone and the water is definitely cold. He walks out of the ocean too and dazedly walks back to their cabana.  
He can’t keep the grin off his face. He can’t wait to tell Oliver.


	5. Chapter 5

**Costa Rica, Day 2**

 

“WAKE UP!”

Oliver wakes up to Ryan screaming and pounding on the bedroom door.

“BOAT LEAVES IN HALF AN HOUR WE GOTTA BE ON IT.”

Oliver pulls the blankets over his head in protest and flips over on his stomach trying to ignore the voice. If the boat leaves in half an hour he has at least ten more minutes of sleep.

“TALAN MICHAEL.” Ryan yells again, hitting the door with his fist a few times, “OLIVER CHARLES. GET UP.”

Ryan waits thirty seconds before Oliver hears him try to turn the door handle.

“WE DON’T LOCK DOORS.” Ryan cries out outraged, “Mike they locked their door.”

Oliver can’t hear Michael’s reply and takes advantage of the quiet to doze off.

“NO.” Talan yells. His voice is sleepy and his syllables slurred. “YELLING. STOP.”

Oliver groans and opens his eyes. He grabs a spare pillow and hurls it as hard as he can across the room to hit Talan.

“HALF AN HOUR.” Ryan yells again, “WE LEAVE IN TWENTY.”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY.” Talan hollers.

“THANK YOU GET UP.” Ryan answers, “WE DON’T LOCK DOORS.”

Oliver reaches for his phone. He has no new text messages. He anxiously hits the icon again hoping it simply hasn’t refreshed but he has no new message from Kasey White. Just the ones from the night before they’d left New York City: a selfie of her at a club asking him to come join her.

He’s trained himself to not look at Evan’s name and he wishes he had more friends so that their conversation would push the one with Evan off his screen. Oliver only texts about four people so Evan’s name is still there, right below Ryan’s. The last message is the apology Oliver had sent on his first night in New York. He still hasn’t gotten a reply. He has no other friends to talk to.

Looking at Evan’s name makes him feel empty. It makes something in the bottom of his stomach ache and makes the medals he’d left in New York feel worthless. The goal that had been so important to him for the past few years feels ridiculous now. He has nine gold medals, five world records and a place at Harvard but he doesn’t have any other friends to text. His dad’s name is at the top of the list, followed by Talan’s and two of his cousins.

Oliver isn’t sure he fully regrets it. He’d enjoyed the attention and he loves to win. Removed from Rotterdam though it’s become harder to believe everything he’d made himself believe about personal sacrifice.

He misses Evan.

“You awake?” Talan asks from his side of the room.

“No.” Oliver answers.

Against his better judgment, Oliver sends a new message to Kasey. He sends her a selfie in bed and avoids getting most of his face in the frame. It would get him in trouble if either of his dads found it but at this point he doesn’t care. He can talk his way out of getting grounded. Say something about wanting to have fun and leaving for Harvard. He thinks that maybe Kasey will send him back a similar picture and that alone is worth the risk.

“Yo I see you taking pics.” Talan calls him out. “You’re not allowed.”

“Dude shut up.” Oliver rolls his eyes at Tal even though his brother can’t see him, “What time d’you get in after you snuck out?”

“I didn’t-”

“I saw you sneak out.” Oliver yawns, “Where d’you go.”

Oliver had woken up around one am and Talan’s bed had been empty. He’d woken up again around four and Talan still hadn’t been back. Oliver had assumed Talan had chosen to sleep on the couch until Talan had woken him up a half hour after he’d fallen back to sleep by tripping over his own suitcase. He’d been fully dressed and holding a beer bottle.

“I-” Talan looks panicked, “bathroom?”

“For three hours?” Oliver questions, “Come on…. At least lie good.”

Oliver watches Talan try to think and it’s hilarious.

Oliver feels good. His throat no longer hurts and the bone tiredness that had been lingering seems to have gone away. He stretches and wonders how long Ryan’s going to leave them alone. Oliver decides they probably have five more minutes. He falls back asleep right away but wakes up when Talan throws himself on his bed and sits firmly on his kneecaps.

“Dude wake up.” Talan says sounding far more serious than Talan ever does.

“Dude ow.” Oliver kicks his legs from under Talan, “Get outta my bed.”

“No.” Talan refuses, “I gotta talk to you.”

“What?” Oliver complains. He kicks his legs completely from under Talan and sits up, “Why d’you sneak out?”

“Like…” Talan starts and stops to cover his face with his hands, “Fuck.”

“You’re hungover.” Oliver wages.

“Fuck.” Talan repeats. He rubs his hands over his face, “Yeah.”

“You got…” Oliver leans towards Talan to stare at the mark on his neck, “Lipstick? Dude… That’s a hickey!”

Oliver laughs and watches Talan rub a finger against the mark on his skin. Oliver grabs the collar of his brother’s t-shirt and pulls it lower revealing more bite marks and traces of what looks like pink lip gloss.

“You’re so fucked dude.” Oliver laughs harder, “Dad’s gonna see those! He’s gonna know you were drunk.”

“Yo that bad?” Talan groans, He cranes his head trying to catch a glimpse of his own neck.

“What d’you do?” Oliver pushes Talan’s head to the side to get a better look, “D’she attack you?”

“I wanna tell you.” Talan admits, “But you can’t tell Dads.”

“Dads are gonna know.” Oliver warns. “You’re gonna be in so much shit for drinking.”

“I wanna tell you.” Talan insists, “Please like-“

Oliver draws his knees up, settles himself back against his pillows and waits for the story.

He waits to listen because Talan has listened to countless of his stories. Talan had heard about Evan and about the guy who swam with him at Meadowbrooks. Talan had listened when Oliver had talked about the cheerleader at the party who’d let him take her bra off.

Oliver knows Talan would probably rather be telling this story to Brady.

“Is it the blonde chick?” Oliver guesses, “The one who can’t swim?”

“Yes dude, Ava.” Talan says her name slowly and with reverence “She’s from South Dakota.”

“Who lives in South Dakota?” Oliver asks, “That’s like the dumbest place to-”

“Don’t.” Talan says offended, “She’s like… Amazing.”

“Yeah I’m sure.” Oliver rolls his eyes, “What happened?”

“So like.” Talan grins and cracks his knuckles, “You know how we made out in the water when like she was saying I saved her?”

Oliver nods, Talan had described the event in great details the night before.

“So after she was like, ‘sneak out and come to the beach and we can hang out more.’ So like that’s where I was.”

“At the beach getting drunk with some chick from South Dakota.” Oliver repeats.

“Yeah.” Talan grins even wider and looks dreamingly at a spot in mid air, clearly remembering the night before, “I got to like… Third base.”

“Who even says that?” Oliver replies, “What’s third base.”

“You know like um,” Talan smiles lewdly, “She like…” Talan mimics jerking off.

“Gross.” Oliver holds his hand up to make Talan stop, “I don’t wanna-”

“Dude I heard everything about that dumb chick at the party and I never-”

“Call Brayden.” Oliver dismisses, “Gross.”

Talan immediately looks hurt and Oliver immediately feels awful. He’s been a lackluster older brother these last few months. Living mostly away from home and not ever really being available to talk or to hang out.

“Sorry.” Oliver apologizes before Talan says anything, “So you and this random chick from nowhere USA get drunk on the beach and she jacks you off-”

“With her mouth.” Talan says proudly. “We’re gonna meet up tonight too.”

“Tell her not to leave marks.” Oliver suggests, he rubs his thumb against one of the sticky pink lip-gloss marks on Talan’s neck. “Tell me how that washes off your di-”

“D’you have like condoms?” Talan blurts out before he pushes Oliver’s hand away from his neck.

“No.” Oliver answers right away, “You’re not.”

“I might.” Talan argues back, “I could of-”

“You’re not that dumb.” Oliver reassures.

“It’s not dumb, I like her.”

“You met her yesterday.” Oliver explains, “You don’t.”

“I do.” Talan assures, “She’s hot.”

“She sucked your dick.” Oliver corrects. “Baby you’re not having sex with her.”

“I don’t gotta listen to you.” Talan says outraged, “I wanna like do it I don’t need your- It’s sex dude.”

“You need my rubbers.” Oliver reminds him.

“Maybe I don’t.” Talan challenges, “I don’t gotta-”

“You do.” Oliver insists, “You have sex you wear a condom dude that’s like-”

“Then gimme one.” Talan insists, “Please like be my friend.”

“You’re gonna be grounded once dads see your neck.” Oliver rationalizes, “So it don’t matter.”

Oliver reaches down for his backpack; the same one he’d had in Rotterdam. He opens the zipper, digs around a little bit and pulls out a handful of Olympic village issued condoms. He drops them on the bed in front of Talan.  
“Thanks.” Talan says holding a package up, “Dude really.”

“D’you even know how to put one on?” Oliver asks.

“It goes on my dick.” Talan answers matter of fact, “Can’t be that complicated.”

“Ugh.”

There isn’t enough time in world to explain the finer points of safe sex to Talan, especially not in the estimated two minutes they have left before Ryan is pounding on their bedroom door again. Nevertheless, Oliver reaches for one of the packets and tears it open.

“That’s mine!” Talan says outraged, “Use your own!”

“I gave you like ten.” Oliver rolls his eyes. He pulls the condom out of the packet. “You ain’t gonna use ten.”

“I might.”

“You’re not.” Oliver tells him, “Here- ugh gross.”

Oliver wipes lube off his fingers onto his pajama pants before holding up the latex disk to Talan’s face.

“It’s rolled up, it unrolls both ways but if you put it on the wrong way it’s gonna unroll off your dick as you’re doing it and that ain’t good so you want it to roll out. The tip should be up that usually tells you how it goes.”

Oliver shows Talan the right way to unroll it.

“I mean you do that on your dick not like in your hands.” Oliver specifies, “You gotta pinch the tip so you don’t get air stuck in it. Then roll all the way down.”

“Yo that’s hard.” Talan says sounding confused.

“It’s really not.” Oliver answers, “Dude you just roll it on the right way and pinch the tip. Like practice in the shower before you go just don’t like do anything stupid.”

“You mean don’t have sex.”

“Yeah.” Oliver is serious, “Like you don’t know her.”

“You knew the cheerleader at the party?”

“I didn’t fuck the cheerleader at the party.” Oliver admits, “I waited.”

“For who?” Talan challenges, “Dude you can’t like gimme a speech ‘bout not havin-”

“Ev.” Oliver says quietly.

“Shit.” Talan looks down guiltily, “Sorry.”

“Yeah whatever.”

Out of habit more than anything, Oliver picks up his phone and checks his messages. He hits Evan’s name to make sure he hasn’t missed a call or a text.

“Is Casey White still texting you?” Talan asks excited leaning forward to peer at the screen of Oliver’s voice. “Dude what she saying?”

“No.” Oliver admits, “She stopped answering.”

“She send pictures?” Talan reaches out the scroll up on the conversation before Oliver pulls his phone away.

“Not to you.” Oliver says, “Here.”

Oliver throws the unrolled condom at Talan who tries to bat it away. The rubber sticks to his hand.

“Gross, ugh.” Talan tries to shake it off and the condom falls somewhere on the floor between their beds, “What d’you get Dad for his birthday?”

“Um.” Oliver comes up empty. He kicks off his blankets and stands up “Nine gold medals?”

Oliver leans over his suitcase and pulls out a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt. He digs further to find his shaving kit and moves stuff around trying to find something that could pass off as a gift for Ryan.

“You suck.” Talan moves up to rest back against Oliver’s pillow, “Like a real gift.”

“What d’you get?” Oliver challenges as a defense.

“I’ve been working on it forever.” Talan sighs, “Like I’ve been so stressed tryin’ to-”

“TAL. OLS.” Michael is the one yelling this time. “GET UP. IT’S DAD’S BIRTHDAY.”

Michael tries the doorknob again. He pushes once against the locked door, Oliver walks three feet to unlock it and Michael opens it forcefully.

“Woah.” Michael says catching the door before it slams into Oliver, “Watch it Bud.”  
“We’re up.” Talan points out, “I gotta shower.”

“We have breakfast ready.” Michael motions to the world outside their bedroom, “Come eat something before we go.”

Talan thinks of eating breakfast and his stomach turns. He closes his eyes and shakes his head at Michael’s suggestion.

“Feeling alright?” Michael worries. He’s afraid that Talan might be getting sick just as Oliver is getting better. “Does your throat hurt?”

“No.” Talan opens his eyes, “I’m good.”

“Then come eat breakfast.”

“I gotta shower.” Talan tries to casually bring a hand up to his neck to hide the hickeys on his neck.

“There won’t be food on the boat Tal.” Michael warns, “Hurry up. We got bacon.”

“I want bacon.” Oliver calls out, “Be right out. Changing.”

Oliver heads to the bathroom and Michael lingers to look at Talan, trying to determine if the kid is lying to him about feeling sick.

“What d’you get dad for his birthday?” Talan asks Michael, “What we gonna do?”

“We’re gonna go out to dinner.” Michael lays out his vague plan, “And spend the day on the boat fishing. It’s what dad wants.”

“D’you get him a cake?”

“It’ll be okay Talan.” Michael sighs, slightly annoyed by how concerned Talan is with making sure things are perfect for Ryan. Michael knows Talan doubts he’s put enough thought into this birthday

“I don’t like got anything for Dad.” Talan says looking at Michael sadly, “I was gonna like get it at home-”

Talan only refers to Florida as home, while everyone else in the family makes a distinction between Florida and Baltimore.

“Dad doesn’t need you to get him a present Tal.” Michael comforts, “He’s just-”

“I got like something for him.” Talan reassures, “But it’s not like… a gift it’s just…”

“Whatever you have is fine.” Michael reassures, “Go shower please so we’re not late.”

“Gotta wait for Ols.” Talan says, “Then I go.”

“Come eat while you wait.” Michael requests, “Please.”

*

Talan doesn’t eat breakfast.

He throws up twice in the shower and spends a few minutes sitting on the tile floor letting the water hit his shoulders.

After his shower he stands in the bathroom and observes his torso in the mirror. The hickeys start on his chest and move up to his neck. The majority of them are clustered below his collarbone. He brings his hand over them before curling it around the back of his neck.

Ava and him had chosen the beach that was the furthest from the rest of the resort. They’d walked most of the way in total darkness and exchanged sips out of a bottle of something that was stronger than any other alcohol Talan had ever tasted. When they’d been far enough from the last person they’d seen to feel safe, Ava had used the screen of her cellphone as a flashlight to light their way.

On the sand, settled on a beach chair that was too busted to bother bringing in at night, they’d made out until Ava had been topless and straddling Talan. She’d kept bringing his hands up to touch her.

Talan had leaned back against the half broken back of the chair and tried his hardest not to move up his hips to rub against her. He’d slid his hands up from her waist and hesitated just under her breast. He’d let his thumb brush up against the un-tanned skin her bathing suit usually covered and had to remind himself to breathe. His exhale had been shaky.

“You can touch me.” She’d laughed and moved his hands to cup over her breasts, “If we’re going to have sex-“

“I don’t have a-“ Talan had been surprised he could still talk. Ava’s skin was warm and soft and he couldn’t stop touching it.

He remembers feeling Ava’s lips on his chest of her hands touching him. He remembers slipping his fingers under her shirt and her bikini top. He remembers waiting for her to push them away or to tell him to stop.

He remembers Ava moving against him and sliding her hands down his stomach and into his board shorts. He doesn’t care about the boat or the birthday dinner anymore. He cares about finding Ava and sneaking off somewhere to be alone.

“Baby.” Ryan knocks on the door, “We’re leaving.”

“Yeah okay.” Talan answers too quickly and too loudly. He shakes his head trying to get the picture of Ava out, “Right out.”

He slips on his rash guard to hide most of the hickeys. He splashes more cold water on his face and forces himself to drink a full glass of water. He walks out of the bathroom and Ryan is still waiting for him.

“Dad said you weren’t feeling. You don’t look hot.” Ryan observes, watching Talan gather up his stuff, “You okay?”

“Um yeah.” Talan brushes off, “Just like I don’t know maybe something I ate.”

“You up for the boat?” Ryan verifies.

“Yeah.” Talan nods. He feels guilty that Ryan is worrying about him on his birthday, “I’m stoked.”

“I’ll get you some Pepto.” Ryan plans, “Go meet your dad out front.”

*

The day out on the boat is lazy. They try their hand at fishing but don’t catch anything. Michael and Ryan steadily drink beers while they watch Talan and Oliver jump to scuba dive and swim out with manta rays. Talan spots a sea turtle a few dozen feet away from them and swims way further than he’s meant to in order to get closer.

“TALAN.” Michael feels his panic level rise as he watches his son get farther and farther from the boat. “SWIM BACK.”

“He’s fine.” Ryan offers from his deck chair, “He’s got flippers.”

“He’s got no- TALAN.” Michael hollers again, motioning for Talan to come back, “There we go he’s coming back.”

Michael stays leaning against the deck railing watching until Talan is safely back within ten feet of the boat.

“He swam that perfect.” Michael points out, grabbing his beer bottle off the floor and settling back next to Ryan.

“You’re burning.” Ryan notes.

“You’re hot too.” Michael answers, taking a sip from his beer.

“No like actually burning.” Ryan reaches over to touch a spot on Michael’s chest that’s turned bright red.

“You’re really hot too.” Michael answers again, ignoring Ryan’s comments. “I like the white suit better though.”

“For you tonight.” Ryan promises.

“I’m holding you to that.” Michael warns, “Think the dudes are good on their own for-”

“You takin’ me on a date?” Ryan says in mock surprise, “I was just gonna put out.”

“Thought we’d all eat together.” Michael explains, “Then you an me can go like… somewhere you can wear that white suit.”

“S’my birthday.” Ryan stretches out, “You wear it.”

“It’s not how it works.” Michael replies, “S’never been so-”

“Dad.” Oliver calls out interrupting, “Dad. Dad. Dad.”

“Oliver. Oliver.” Ryan calls back, “What?”

Oliver and Talan have climbed back onto the boat. They’re both standing on the edge of the railing one level above Michael and Ryan.

“We’re gonna backflip.” Oliver motions to Talan, “Look.”

“Look Dad!” Talan demands, “Count us down!”

The top deck of the boat is almost two stories high and Michael starts counting down the things that could go wrong.

“Be careful guys.” Michael warns instead of starting the countdown. He stands up, takes a few steps back and stares at his kids against the glare of the sun. He tries to assess exactly how dangerous this jump could be

“There’s like nothing that could go wrong.” Talan tries to appease him, “You gotta judge though like, who’s better.”

“Who’s better at what?” Ryan answers back, “Like splash or entry or…?”

“Jump?” Talan looks at Oliver quizzically, “What we going for?”

“Splash.” Oliver decides, “Form.”

“Take you mark.” Ryan calls out directly from behind Michael and Michael turns around to see that Ryan is holding his phone up and filming, “Watch for sharks.”

“Ain’t no sharks.” Talan rolls his eyes.

“Watch your heads.” Michael urges.

“Dad go!” Oliver says impatiently.

“Three-” Michael starts.

Oliver pushes Talan before Michael gets to two.

Talan momentarily looses his balance and teeters precariously on the edge of the boat. He gets one of his hands to grip back on the railing and stabilizes himself back before he hits Oliver.

“Oliver Charles.” Ryan calls out severely.

Michael knows that if Ryan had been the one getting ready to jump with Devon, he wouldn’t have thought twice about pushing Devon in.

“He’s fine.” Oliver answers.

“I’m good.” Talan agrees, “Start over.”

“Three.” Michael says again, “Two, One.”

Both boys jump off the ledge and fall down towards the water with arms swinging and legs curling up to their chest. They land with remarkable splashes and Michael doesn’t breathe until they both resurface.

“TERRIBLE.” Ryan hollers out at them, “BOTH OF YOU.”

“NO WAY.” Oliver spits out water and looks outraged, “I got at least a ten.”

“Do-over.” Ryan requests, “Try harder this time.”

In the ocean, Talan pushes Oliver’s head under water to get a head start back towards the ladder. Oliver beats him to it quickly and dunks Talan as payback.

It’s hard to accept that they don’t have a lot of time left for moments like this.

“They’re gonna miss each other.” Ryan observes, watching Talan and Oliver clamber back onto the boat and race to the top deck, “Who’d thought it’d happen?”

Michael remembers a three-year-old Oliver asking them when Talan would be going home. He remembers a four-year-old Oliver trapping Talan into one of the kitchen cabinets. He remembers Oliver being utterly unimpressed about losing his only child status. When both boys had been little it had seemed unlikely that they would ever be close.

“Who’d thought he’d get this big.” Michael answers and feels like a broken record. He can’t stop talking about Oliver leaving because he can’t stop thinking about it.

“MP.” Ryan says quietly, “S’my birthday.”

“I know.” Michael affirms, “I just-”

“Don’t get bummed out.”

Ryan reaches to squeeze Michael’s shoulder before leaning in to kiss him. Ryan rests his hands on Michael’s too hot sunburnt skin and pulls his husband in closer. He pulls apart to move his lips close to Michael’s ear.

“We can go to the nude beach.” Ryan whispers, “After dinner.”

“Stop being gross.” Oliver complains from somewhere above both their heads, “Look for real this time.”

“You push your brother you’re grounded.” Ryan threatens, pulling away from Michael to look up. “THREE-”

*

“The way I see it.” Talan unfolds up his napkin in front of him at the table and feels himself lose his audience, “No like hear me out.”

They’re all sitting by the windows of the resorts’ fancy restaurant. Everyone is dressed up. Even Talan is sporting a deep green suit with a pale blue shirt and darker blue tie. His eyes are strikingly bluer in contrast and even more obvious without his glasses.

“So like, we can knock down a wall-” Talan reaches into his pocket for a pen and does a quick sketch, “An’ like if we knock down that wall then I get a huge bedroom.”

“Where do I sleep when I come home dork?” Oliver challenges, unimpressed with Talan’s plan to knock down the walls of his bedroom.

“Guest room?” Talan offers, “Couch.”

“We’re not knocking down walls Talan.” Michael confirms.

“Ok so then.” Talan switches plans, “We take out all his stuff an’”

“My stuff stays!” Oliver says outraged, “It’s my room.”

“It is your room Gator.” Ryan pacifies, “Talan we’re not giving you Oliver’s room.”

“That’s not fair.” Talan says deadpan, “His room’s bigger and he’s not even gonna be home like at all.”

“I’m gonna be home all the time.” Oliver implores, “You can’t move my stuff out just ‘cause-”

“What’s everyone having for dinner?” Michael asks a little too loudly to interrupt the brewing fight.

“Steak.” Oliver says right away, “With steak.”

“Steak too.” Ryan decides.

Ryan pours himself another glass of wine before he refills Michael’s glass.

“Talan what are you eating?” Michael questions.

“I dunno.” Talan shrugs, “What’s like vegetarian?”

“It’s written in front of you.” Ryan points to the menu.

“I didn’t wear my glasses.” Talan explains, “They didn’t match my suit.”

“They got pasta.” Oliver reads aloud, “And a veggie burger… Salad…”

“What kinda pasta?” Talan asks, leaning closer to Oliver to squint down at the menu, “Does it have stuff?”

“Probably.” Oliver goes back to look at the menu, “Yeah dude.”

Under the table, Ryan rubs Michael’s leg with his foot.

“Veggie burger.” Talan decides, “With pasta no bread.”

“I’ll eat your bread.” Oliver offers, “Starving.”

The bottle of wine is almost done by the time their meals arrive. Oliver digs into his food like he’s half starved while Talan carefully examines his to make sure everything is okay with it.

“Oh man.” Oliver takes another bite of steak, “This is the best. D’you think they’ll give me another potato? S’there more bread?”

“Here.” Talan holds up his plate and goes to push half his pasta on Oliver’s plate before Ryan holds his hand up.

“You eat your own food.” Ryan commands, forcing Talan’s plate back in front of him, “Oliver eat the food you have first.”

It’s almost like being home and for a second Ryan can forget that they’re in a busy restaurant in another country. As much as he loves travelling with his family a large part of him is incredibly homesick to just be with his family at home.

He misses the normal boring nights of checking homework, making dinner, driving to basketball practice and making lunches.

“Good birthday?”

Michael asks it so quietly that neither of the boys look up from their plates. Ryan drops his hand on Michael’s thigh and squeezes.

“Yeah with you guys.” Ryan nods. “Thanks.”

“Your present’s home.” Michael says quiet, “It didn’t fit.”

It’s a bold face lie and Michael just hopes he can figure something out before they get back to Florida.

“I gotta present!” Talan enthuses, “Dude I gotta!”

Talan reaches underneath his chair and pulls out his hardcover sketchbook. He flips through the pages for a while before he carefully pulls out a sheet that’s been pressed between two others.

“So like this’ been to three countries and it’s been forever and I didn’t lose it or spill stuff on it or nothing.” He says proudly, “Here dad. Happy birthday.”

He hands the paper to Ryan looking slightly embarrassed.

“Sorry it’s not like wrapped.” He apologizes.

“No Baby.” Ryan brushes off his apology.

He carefully removes the drawing from its makeshift envelope and stares at the drawing before he speaks.

“It’s um us.” Talan fills him in, “And Carter from before like the picture’s on your desk all the time so I thought I’d just… It’s not perfect but it’s like… It took a long time to get faces right and um the beach I think it’s from Hawaii and I’m little so I-”

“I love it.” Ryan answers, “Thanks Talan.”

“You don’t gotta like put it up.” Talan adds. “Give it back so it makes it home safe.”

Talan protectively reaches for the drawing and nestles it back between the pages of his sketchbook before Michael and Oliver get a chance to see it. He doesn’t offer to show it to them.

They finish their meal, Oliver eats an extra baked potato and a waiter brings over a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket and the promise of birthday cake.

As soon as the waiter leaves, Michael grabs the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and steals two extra champagne flutes from an empty table close by. He fills two of the four glasses up halfway and hands one to each boy before filling up the two other glasses for Ryan and himself.

“Awesome.” Talan says grabbing his glass.

“I’m two years older and a foot taller I should get more.” Oliver challenges.

“You’re on antibiotics.” Ryan refuses, “No.”

Ryan still reaches across the table, grabs Talan’s glass and empties a third of it into Michael’s glass.

“Hey!” Talan complains, “That’s not fair.”

“You have enough.” Ryan reassures him.

“I just want to say.” Michael holds up his glass for a toast, “I’m-”

“Yes!” Talan exclaims, “We should all say something ‘bout Dad like go ‘round I start.”

“Dad was sayin’ something Tal.” Ryan reminds him, running his hand up and down Michael’s arm.

“No.” Michael reconsiders, “I like Tal’s idea. We all say something about dad. Talan d’you wanna start?”

“Um okay.” Talan agrees, “I gotta like…”

Talan takes a sip of his champagne first then looks down at his lap deep in thought. It takes about a minute of silence before he’s ready to talk.

“Ok so you...” Talan takes a second sip, “You’re um… kinda my best friend. You stay up late to help me with my homework always and you taught me to dunk... I like know you always answer your phone when I call… Even if it’s 2am or you’re in a meeting that’s important… I know that cause you always answered when I called from basketball camp flipping out to come home-”

Talan calling home at 2am from basketball camp is news to Michael.

“You get me outta places you know are tough for me… and you help me if I need it always like all the time pretty much. Everything I do that’s like cool you taught me… ‘cept golf but that’s dad so…” Talan trails off.

“Baby.” Ryan says softly.

“No wait.” Talan holds up his hand to hush Ryan, “You gotta know I like… ‘preciate it. You always help me out even when what I do is dumb. It’s never dumb to you. I love you. Yeah. That’s it.”

“Tal.”

Talan is sitting across the table from Ryan and Ryan has to stand up to go hug him. He holds him tight, rumpling Talan’s brand new green suit jacket. He kisses the top of Talan’s head.

“Dude.” Ryan grins, “You’re my person.”

“Yeah.” Talan agrees, he motions between the two of them. “We’re like the same… I have other stuff I could say I just didn’t like think of it.” Talan explains once Ryan let’s go of him. “Go Oliver.”

“Yeah I don’t know.” Oliver stares at his water glass, he still hasn’t touched his champagne “Like it’s hard to-”

“You don’t have to.” Ryan reassures.

“No!” Talan disagrees, “Go Harvard.”

“Yeah no pressure.” Oliver mumbles, “Like I went to the Olympics because of you and I’m gonna go to Harvard and I wouldn’t have done any of it without you or dad but like I’ve said that before…” Oliver falters. “You always know what’s bugging me even when I don’t wanna say it and it always makes me feel better.” Oliver clears his throat and looks embarrassed “And dad too. Yeah.”

Oliver takes a sip from his champagne glass and doesn’t look up to meet anyone’s eyes.

“Thanks.” Ryan’s voice falters. He reaches next to him to hug Oliver hard. “Love you Gator.”

Ryan isn’t convinced his marriage will survive the next few years. Despite Michael’s willingness to get help, Ryan’s unsure that Michael and him can fix all their problems and mend all their differences. What Ryan is sure of is that he’ll never regret any of the choices that have brought Talan and Oliver into his life.

“It’s dad’s turn.” Talan reminds all of them, “That speech’s hard to beat like go ahead and try.”

Michael is sitting across from Oliver smack between Talan and Ryan. He’s had just a bit too much to drink and both his sons’ speeches have choked him up. He runs a finger over the lip of his glass to give himself a few more minutes to think.

“Guys.” Ryan drops a hand on Michael’s thigh and squeezes, “Leave your dad alone, he’ll make his speech tonight-”

“No Ry.” Michael puts his hand over Ryan’s, “I got it.”

The waiter comes back with the promised birthday cake and the wait staff sings while half the restaurant peers curiously at the commotion. Ryan revels in the attention and waits until the song is over to blow out the candle that crowns his piece of cake.

The first time Michael had celebrated Ryan’s birthday had been in Athens. It was the first night they’d kissed and the first time they’d slept in the same bed. Ryan’s presence had had a kind of spellbound effect on him. His laughter was contagious and he was so committed to being ridiculous all the time that it was refreshing.

Michael can think of every single one of Ryan’s birthdays since Ryan had turned twenty in Athens. He remembers Ryan’s 21st birthday party and his 30th. The one where he’d gotten him a bottle of vodka and the one when he’d gotten him the Maserati that is still in their garage in Florida.

Michael drags his fork along the icing on the side of his cake and tries to form the thoughts in his head into words that can be said aloud.

“I remember like-” Michael starts off his speech about as eloquently as Talan, “Your birthday in Athens.”

“Yeah?” Ryan enthuses, “I still hate Ouzo.”

“I knew I liked you and-”

“You missed curfew for me. We got in shit.” Ryan remembers fondly, “Switched room mates.”

“Can we not get gross?” Talan requests.

“I get this isn’t like the best-” Michael continues.

“No.” Ryan interrupts, “This is awesome. Don’t MP.”

For a second it’s almost like Talan and Oliver aren’t sitting at the table. It’s Ryan’s birthday and they aren’t home. Like so many of his birthdays they’re travelling and Ryan’s just gotten short changed because of the Olympics.

Michael feels drunk and he rationalizes that he probably is. He doesn’t have any other words to string together and feels awkward doing it in front of their kids. He squeezes Ryan’s hand again, brushing Ryan’s fingers with his thumb and staring down at the napkin in his lap.

“I’m glad you still spend your birthday with me.” Michael finishes.

Michael might have added something else but Ryan kisses him too quickly to hear it. Ryan leans halfway out of his chair to press his lips hard against Michael and Michael kisses him back with matched fervor.

“That’s gross.” Oliver drops his fork into his plate of chocolate cake.

“Other people are staring.” Talan looks around. “That lady’s like… really staring.”

Oliver and Talan look at each other pained.

“Should we like go?” Oliver asks.

“Dude let’s just go.” Talan suggests, “Take your cake.”

“Can we go?” Oliver tries to ask, “Like leave or?”

Oliver waits for an answer and doesn’t get one.

“Whatever.” Talan grabs his plate of cake and stands up, “Happy birthday dad.”

Talan hovers awkwardly expecting some kind of approval or warning but neither of his parents pull away from each other.

“We’re gonna be in our room.” Oliver adds, standing up, “People are still staring.”

Both Oliver and Talan walk out of the restaurant holding their plates. They walk back to their cabana in silence occasionally taking a bite. Once they get back to their room, Talan immediately changes out of his suit and puts his glasses back on his face.

“I’m gonna go meet Ava.” Talan informs Oliver while he digs through his bag for a clean shirt, “Tell dads I’m sleeping.”

“Dude.” Oliver sighs.

Oliver is already settled back against his headboard with his book in his hand. He doesn’t have anyone to sneak off to see.

“Dude. Sex.” Talan boasts.

“Dads are gonna check when they get back.” Oliver warns, “You’re gonna be in so much shit.”

“Say I went to walk.” Talan begs, “Cover for me.”

“Yeah ‘cause they’re gonna let you.” Oliver rolls his eyes, “Dude you’re not home if you ain’t in bed they’re gonna call security-”

“It might work.” Talan sounds desperate, “Please.”

“I’m gonna be sleeping.” Oliver decides, “I don’t know anything.”

It’s not the answer Talan had hoped for but Ava is already waiting for him by the beach.

“Just don’t rat me out.” Talan asks, “We’ll hang out tomorrow just I gotta-”

“Whatever.” Oliver waves him off, “Don’t do anything dumb. Go.”

Talan leaves Oliver alone in the cabana.

Oliver reads for a few minutes before he puts his book down beside him in frustration. He’s bored and restless and halfway jealous that Talan’s managed to find someone to be with in Costa Rica. Oliver had imagined that nine gold medals would have been enough to impress at least one person but all he has right now are text messages from a girl who’s in a different country.

Oliver doesn’t bother to leave a note or to get changed. He walks out still in his suit and heads back to the main part of the resort. He’d spotted the signs for the resort club on their way to dinner and three hours after they’d first walked by the place is now pounding with loud music and filled with people.

The waiter from the previous morning is behind the bar and Oliver tries to look as inconspicuous as possible walking up to him.

He waits at the bar, pushing his way through people waiting for a drink, until he catches the other guy’s eyes.

“Hey.” Oliver says, trying to look older, “Whatever you want to make.”

The guy sizes him up for a second before reaching for a glass and filling it up with soda.

“Come on.” Oliver pleads, his confidence faltering, “My dads aren’t here. I’m Oliver.”

Oliver holds his hand out across the bar.

“I’m Cruz.” The guy answers, “You don’t have an adult bracelet. You get soda.”

“I’m eighteen in like two weeks.” Oliver lies.

Cruz sets the glass down in front of Oliver and busies himself by helping other people waiting for drinks.

Oliver takes a sip of his coke and doesn’t know what to do. Going back to the cabana feels like defeat and there’s no way he’s going to find his parents. He half hopes for someone to recognize him but even when he turns around to face the room instead of the bar no one does.

“Hey.”

Oliver feels a hand close around the back of his neck and he turns around to face Cruz.

“I’m out of the bar in fifteen.” Cruz tells him, leaning forward across the bar to be closer to Oliver “My friend comes back then I’m-”

“Yeah.” Oliver leans towards him, “I can wait.” 

*

“Just lemme check on the dudes.” Ryan pulls away from Michael as they walk back to their room, “Make sure they’re good-”  
“They’re good.” Michael reassures, “Check after. They’re sleeping.”

Michael kisses Ryan to distract him from going to check on the boys. He’s intent on getting Ryan to find his white speedo and back out into the pool as quickly as possible.

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees pulling away for a second, “After.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The working title of this fic was Surfing. 
> 
> I wrote around 109 000 words of Proud and Tides to get to this chapter. 
> 
> Please don't show up at my house with torches.

**Costa Rica, Day 3, 2am**

“Where you going?” Michael mumbles. 

Michael splays out his arm across the bed to where Ryan was laying a second ago. Ryan is sitting up instead, reaching on the floor for his sweatpants. 

“Check on the dudes.” Ryan explains. He pulls his pants up and walks away from the bed shirtless, “Never saw them after diner.” 

“They’re sleeping.” Michael tries to convince him, “Ry come back to bed.” 

“It’ll take thirty seconds.” Ryan argues, “Just gotta know they’re good.” 

Michael turns over in bed and stretches out to close a hand around Ryan’s calf. 

“I’m not done.” Michael strokes his thumb on Ryan’s skin and pulls him in close again. 

Michael props himself up on his elbow and leans over to kiss Ryan’s stomach, he pushes the hem of his sweatpants down to kiss Ryan’s hipbone, his lips grazing over skin that he’s already spent hours sucking on. He runs his free hand up Ryan’s thigh, sliding it to cup his palm around Ryan’s hardening dick.

“Thirty seconds.” Ryan insists taking a step back, “I check they’re in bed and I come back.” 

Michael falls back against the mattress and tries not to look annoyed. Ryan isn’t avoiding him; Ryan is going to check on their kids. There had been a point in time when Michael had found Ryan’s dad moments irresistibly hot. When the sight of him shirtless in the kitchen giving a bottle to Oliver or Talan had rendered him speechless. 

“Don’t worry MP.” Ryan winks, “You can suck my dick in two minutes.” 

“Yeah you can suck mine.” Michael retorts, his annoyance evident in his voice. 

“It’s my birthday.” Ryan reminds him, “You do the dick sucking.” 

“Yeah.” Michael falls back on his pillow, “Go check on our kids.” 

“Yeah don’t fall asleep.” Ryan warns. “Two minutes tops.” 

*

Talan’s bed is empty. 

Ryan’s immediate reaction is to panic. He forces himself to breathe, leave the boys’ bedroom and go check the couches in the living room. When he doesn’t find Talan asleep on any of them, he checks the outdoor furniture. He only lets himself panic when it becomes evident that Talan is missing. 

“Oliver.” He says loudly as he walks into the bedroom again, “Ols wake up.” 

Ryan doesn’t let himself remember that Oliver struggles with insomnia that if he’s sleeping it’s better to not wake him up and that waking up Oliver at 2 in the morning means his oldest child probably won’t be able to get back to sleep. 

“I dunno where Talan is.” Oliver mumbles, “Go ‘way.” 

“Oliver.” Ryan knows his son is lying, “Before I call security. Where’s your brother?” 

Ryan walks closer to Oliver’s bed and waits for an answer. He nudges Oliver with his foot when Oliver chooses to go back to sleep. 

“Oliver Charles.” Ryan says louder and with a stronger nudge, “We’re in another country and Talan’s not in bed. Where is he?” 

“Fu-” Oliver starts to swear but catches himself. 

Oliver turns over on his back and scoots further away from Ryan trying to escape the nudging. 

“He’s at the beach.” Oliver yawns; he decides that Talan’s secrets aren’t worth losing sleep over. “With that stupid girl who can’t swim. They’re hooking up.” 

“Hooking up?” Ryan asks confused because Talan and girls aren’t usually involved in the same sentence. 

“Like they’re…” Oliver starts but doesn’t finish, “Ugh. Lemme sleep.”

Ryan leaves Oliver alone. He walks to Talan’s side of the room. Talan’s cell phone is on the bed and without knowing what he’s looking for; Ryan uses it to shine a light on the bed. 

Talan’s suit is crumbled on top of the blankets and the backpack he’d brought to dinner is on top of it. Ryan moves it to grab the suit jacket and sees condom packets instead. 

“Oliver.” Ryan shines the light of Talan’s cell phone straight at Oliver’s bed, “Wake up.” 

“Go back to sleep.” Oliver whines, “Talan came back last night he’ll come back tonight.” 

“He did this yesterday?” Ryan asks, he doesn’t usually feel this out of the loop. He usually isn’t caught off guard by Talan and he hates looking like a clueless parent. 

“Yes.” Oliver is mad enough at Talan to rat him out, “They got drunk on the beach, he was hungover this morning.” 

“These his?” Ryan shines a light on the condom. 

“Yes.” Oliver groans a hundred percent done with the subject. “He’s on the beach leave me alone. I’m not doing anything wrong.” 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan answers, “Sorry Gator.” 

Instead of going back to bed, Ryan walks outside and sits to wait for Tal. He gives himself half an hour before he goes hunting for his kid and alerts security that he’s missing. He decides to trust Oliver. 

Talan comes wandering back twenty minutes later, hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts. He’s grinning to himself and biting his lips. He doesn’t notice Ryan. 

Ryan waits until Talan is fishing around his pocket for his key card. 

“Couldn’t sleep?” Ryan greets.

“Jesus.” Talan cries out clutching his chest, “God dad.” 

“Dude.” Ryan levels, “I was worried.” 

“Yeah sorry.” Talan stares at his flip flops, “I couldn’t sleep-” 

“D’you sneak out to be with a girl?” Ryan prods gently. 

Talan nods. 

“I found these.” Ryan holds up a condom. 

“Those are Oliver’s.” Talan defends himself. 

“Talan.” Ryan stops him, “I’m not gonna.” 

Ryan doesn’t know what he’s going to do. They haven’t had the serious girl talk with Talan. They’ve had the puberty talk and the general sex talk but never the actual serious girl talk. 

“Do you know how to use these?” Ryan asks. 

“Yeah?” Talan answers awkwardly, “I got it.” 

“You always use one.” Ryan affirms, “Always no matter if it’s a girl or a guy-” 

“Dad I’m not-” Talan starts off, “I know.” 

“You don’t get a girl pregnant.” Ryan warns and he hears his own father’s speech resonate in his mind, “’Cause then you’re in trouble.” 

“I know.” Talan repeats. 

“That’s not it Talan.” Ryan tries to sound serious, to impart that this is important, “Like there’s diseases and some don’t got cures. Dude you’re fifteen”

“I know.”

“You don’t know her.” Ryan says gently, “Maybe it’s better if you-” 

“I like her.” Talan insists, “She’s-” 

“Getting you to sneak out… I don’t like that.” Ryan frowns, “You were drinking yesterday?” 

Talan stays quiet. He sits in the chair across from Ryan’s and draws his legs up to his chest. 

“You can’t do that Talan.” Ryan tries not to lecture, “Something coulda happened and we wouldn’t know where you were. Get that?” 

Talan nods. 

“This ain’t you.” Ryan shakes his head, “Something going on?” 

Talan continues to stay quiet. The sound of the ocean and monkeys calling out to each other in the distance are the only noises reaching the patio. Ryan sees in the reflection of the pool that the light in the master bedroom cabin is turned on. Michael is waiting for him. 

“I always got your back Baby.” Ryan reminds him, “This ain’t okay though like we’re not home.” 

Talan nods again. 

“You can’t keep getting drunk.” Ryan implores, “I can’t keep that from your dad I gotta-” 

“No.” Talan sounds desperate, “No don’t.” 

“Baby.” Ryan looks up straight at Tal, “You can’t mix your medication with alcohol. It’s not safe. You’re fifteen you can’t drink.” 

“You can’t drink either.” Talan says quietly, “You said-” 

Ryan hangs his head because Talan’s words feel like bullets straight to his chest. He can brush off Michael’s concern about his drinking but he can’t brush off Talan’s. Ryan can’t forgive himself for the times he’d drank too much when it had just been Talan and him at home. 

“What I do.” Ryan chooses his words carefully, “Ain’t what you do okay? You. You’re fifteen. It’s dangerous for you to drink with your meds. You can’t drink.” 

“I didn’t drink tonight.” Talan promises, “I just went to see her.” 

“You’re not allowed to sneak out anymore.” Ryan tells him, “Same curfew as home. Ten thirty.” 

“What about you?” Talan counters. 

“I’m not fifteen.” Ryan dismisses. He hates that he’s shrugging off Talan’s concerned but he can’t cope with it. 

“Yeah but you’re like…” Talan searches for his words, “my dad and you’re responsible and like that time you…” 

Ryan holds up a hand because he doesn’t want to hear Talan finish, he knows the night Talan’s referring to. Michael and him had fought, Michael had left for Baltimore threatening to sell the house and cut off credit cards because of charges Ryan had made for his fashion line. 

Ryan had had too much to drink and passed out on the living room couch with the bottle on the floor next to him. He’d slept through his morning alarm and Talan had found him. Ryan had still been too drunk to drive Talan to school and too embarrassed to call anyone and ask them to pick him up. On a day Talan had been okay to go to school Ryan had phoned him in sick. 

“I didn’t tell Dad.” Talan offers quiet.   
“Baby.” Ryan reaches forward to put his hand on Talan’s leg. “I’ll get help.” 

“It’s whatever just like-” Talan trails off, he stretches out his leg so Ryan’s hand falls away. “I’m not drunk.” 

“Go to bed.” Ryan concedes getting up, “It’s late.” 

“That’s it?” Talan asks puzzled, “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan admits, “Don’t sneak out. I’ll go get you next time. Call security.” 

“You gonna tell Dad?” Talan worries. 

“Go to bed Tal.” Ryan chooses not to answer, “Don’t wake up Oliver.” 

Ryan uses his keycard to open the door and he lets Talan go in first. In the light of the living room he sees lipstick smeared on Talan’s face. 

“Night Baby.” Ryan calls out when Talan walks in front of him to the bedroom, “See you tomorrow.”

Talan waves in Ryan’s direction before closing the door behind him leaving Ryan alone. 

Instead of going back to the Michael, Ryan sits on one of the stools and buries his face in his hands. He’s refused to face his problem for months now. Drinking in private, during the day when Talan was at school or at night once he was in bed. Always hiding it from everyone, especially Michael. 

Now he knows that it’s blown up in his face that his problem is out in the open and his husband is aware. The guilt he has from making Talan keep his secrets is enormous. 

“Ry?” 

Ryan doesn’t hear the door open or Michael walk in, it’s not until Michael is sitting beside him and resting his hand on his back to Ryan notices his presence. 

“Hey sorry.” Ryan lifts up his head, “Fell asleep.” 

Lies. Lies. More lies. 

“Our guys good?” Michael asks slightly worried, “You’ve been gone like an hour.” 

“Yeah, both sleeping.” Ryan tells him, “Let’s go back to bed.” 

The moment from before is gone. Ryan feels exhausted and deflated and can’t bring himself to respond to Michael’s touch or to his lips on his skin. 

“Sorry.” He apologizes when Michael stops kissing his neck and rests his chin on Ryan’s chest.

“Yeah I drank too much too.” Michael agrees before turning over on his back. “Golfing in the morning.” He groans.

“With Tal?” Ryan asks, curling himself around Michael. 

“If he wants to.” Michael slips his arm under Ryan’s shoulders and settles down to press against him, “Business with people from the resort though, might bore him.” 

“He snuck out to see a girl.” Ryan finally chooses to reveal, “He had rubbers.” 

“Talan?” Michael answers in disbelief, “Our Talan?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan yawns, “We gotta make sure he doesn’t sneak out.” 

“Good he’s making friends though.” Michael points out, “Like he has trouble with that.” 

Ryan isn’t sure that hooking up with girls on the beach is what Talan’s therapist had in mind when she’d suggested that Talan needed to work on his interpersonal skills. 

“Sorry about the champagne.” Michael apologizes, “Forgot he can’t have any with his meds.” 

“It’s okay.” Ryan pacifies, “He’s fine.” 

“Ols sleeping?” Michael asks. 

“Yeah. Ols is fine.” Ryan assures. 

“Happy birthday.” Michael says through a yawn, he turns his head to kiss the side of Ryan’s head. “Love you.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan tries to seek comfort from Michael’s warmth but all he feels is guilt, “Love you too.” 

**Costa Rica, Day 3, 8 am**

It’s Michael’s turn to wake up alone the next morning. 

The monkeys are screeching particularly loud and the front door of the bedroom is wide open. The warm breeze blows in and Michael blinks awake slowly stretching out into Ryan’s empty spot. 

“OLS. TAL. BREAKFAST.” Ryan yells and it drowns out the sound of the monkeys. “NO ONE IS SLEEPING ALL DAY TODAY. GET UP.” 

Michael smiles into his pillow because after training camp, the Olympics and Oliver being sick this is one of the first mornings in months that they’re all together. He hears Oliver yell out from the boys’ bedroom and decides to get up and join in on the madness. 

Outside, the sun is blazing and Michael can see bigger waves than they’ve had in months swelling out in the ocean. Talan’s wet suit and his surfboards are already leaning against the wall close to the stairs going down to the beach. 

Michael gets one last moment of quiet on the deck before he ducks into the cabana and is greeted with the familiar morning busyness.

“Morning!”Ryan fills up a coffee cup and sits down next to Talan, “Surf’s up!” 

“Yeah I saw.” Michael notes.

“There’s a local place ten minutes from here and it’s some of the best surfing in Costa Rica.” Ryan keeps talking. “Waves are insane today, they’re taking Tal out later to practice for when they film tomorrow.” 

“I can’t go.” Talan tells Ryan “I’m going golfing with dad.” 

“You can go surfing Baby.” Michael says as he walks to the table. He ruffles Talan’s hair, sits down next to Ryan and steals his coffee cup. He adds more milk and takes a sip. 

“I was gonna let you sleep in.” Ryan pouts, “Why d’you get up?” 

“You were yelling.” Michael kisses him. “Morning.”

“You guys are so loud.” Oliver complains. He sits in front of Michael and reaches for the coffee pot. 

“No coffee.” Michael tells him chewing through a piece of toast, “Have juice.” 

“I can go surfing?” Talan asks. 

“Yeah.” Michael smiles, “It’s business this morning. We can go golfing together tomorrow.” 

“You sure?” Talan hesitates, “Because like I don’t mind… We’ll go surfing-” 

“Don’t worry about it Baby.” Michael reassures, “I don’t want you to be bored while some guy talks to me about jets and buying a house on the propriety.” 

“We’ll meet up for dinner.” Ryan decides, “Gives us time to come back and chill and shower and nap before we meet up with you.” 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees. 

“After.” Ryan holds up a brand new deck of cards, “Spades. Championship.”

“Not if you an dad are a team.” Talan groans, “It’s not fair.” 

“We can take them.” Oliver challenges, “We won last time.” 

“You cheated last time.” Michael reminds him.

“You can’t cheat at Spades.” Oliver rolls his eyes, “Gimme some eggs.” 

Ryan spoons way more eggs than a person should eat on Oliver’s plate before putting the dish back behind him. He hands him the toast basket. 

“If dad gets mad I quit.” Talan warns, “Like we can’t play games it don’t go well for us.” 

It’s as close to a normal morning as they’ve had in months. Michael enjoys that back and forth squabbles between the kids and Ryan. He enjoys knowing what everyone is up to for the day. He likes seeing both his kids still in pajamas eating breakfast. 

“You surfing?” Talan stops arguing about spades long enough to ask Oliver, “Beach is gonna be awesome.”

“Yeah.” Oliver agrees, “I’ll go.” 

“Awesome.” Talan grins, “You can use one of my boards.” 

“You guys are gonna be careful?” Michael warns because the waves outside are definitely bigger than anything Talan and Ols have ever surfed. 

“I’m not even surfing.” Oliver claims, “I’m gonna read on the beach.” 

“I can swim.” Talan protests, “You made me pass that stupid test.” 

“Riptides are stronger here than home Tal.” Ryan reminds him, “How d’you get out of one if you’re stuck?” 

“Go with it.” Talan answers, “Don’t try to paddle against it, swim perparticular-“ 

“Perpendicular.” Oliver corrects.

“Whatever, I know what I mean.” Talan huffs out. 

“Don’t worry.” Oliver reassures, he drinks the rest of his orange juice. “If Baby gets stuck I’ll swim out and rescue him.” 

“I swim fine.” Talan snaps back, “ I don’t need you to-“ 

“Not nine gold medals fine.” Oliver brags.

“Oh my god.” Talan rolls his eyes, “Stop.” 

Michael’s tee off is in half an hour and he knows he’s running late. Part of him wishes he could spend the day at the beach with his boys but his sunburn from the day before are already stinging. He knows he can’t handle a full day on the beach. 

“Just be careful.” Michael gets up. He squeezes Oliver’s shoulders and kisses the top of Talan’s head. “Watch out for each other.” 

Talan grabs onto Michael’s arm before he moves away. 

“You sure it’s okay if I ditch out on golf? It’s not that I don’t want to play it’s just good waves and-“ 

“Baby it’s fine.” Michael takes one more sip of his coffee before putting the half full cup down in front of Talan. “We can play any other day. You’ll be bored out there today.” 

“Thanks.” Talan protectively wraps both his hands around the mug and takes a sip, “Don’t worry I’m almost a pro.” 

“They’re fine Mike.” Ryan reassures, “I swim too.”

“Yeah.” Michael walks over to kiss Ryan goodbye, “Don’t hurt yourself.” 

As soon as he’s out of the kitchen, Michael misses the noise. He thinks of cancelling his golf game but knows that the meeting is part of the reason they’re there. He showers, gets changed and waits for someone to come pick him and his golf clubs up. As the driver makes his way around the cabana, Michael sees Talan waiting on the deck already dressed in his neon wet suit. He waves and Talan waves back enthusiastically. 

*

“Duude.” Talan yells frustrated, “We’re waiting for you, hurry up.” 

He waits thirty more seconds and when his brother doesn’t answer back he groans and opens the door. He stands in the doorframe of their room and studies the mess on Oliver’s side. 

“What the fuck are you looking for?” 

“My phone.” Oliver answers his head deep in their closet.

“We’re going surfing you don’t fucking need it come on.” 

“People might not call you Baby, but they call me.” 

“We’re in Costa Rica, you don’t need your cell phone. It probably doesn’t even work.” Talan drums his fingers impatiently on the door frame, “Dude, come on.” 

“Chill Baby, the water’s gonna be there.” 

“Yo the waves might not, you’re ruining my life. Evan ain’t gonna call you dude.”

“You know what Talan?” Oliver moves to check his suitcase, “Fuck you.”

“You’re taking forever.” Talan kicks the suitcase Oliver is looking through, “Come on.” 

“Maybe I’m gonna shower.” Oliver looks pointedly at Talan, “Shave.” 

“You suck.” Talan kicks the suitcase again. “I’m telling dad.” 

*

Two hours and one resolved fight later. Ryan is standing ankle deep in water watching Talan paddle back out to join the lineup of surfers. 

They’d met up with the team that had invited Tal and Ryan had listened in on them pointing out the finer points of the spots. Telling him which way to turn and where to avoid bailing. 

Once he’s sitting on his surfboard facing the shore Talan waves at Ryan and gives him a thumbs up. Ryan signals back and he walks back towards the beach when he sees Talan smile. 

“You going in?” Ryan moves Oliver’s surfboard to the side and sits in the sand next to his oldest son. 

“Mmm no.” Oliver answers closing his eyes behind his sunglasses, “Being dry is good.” 

“New book?” Ryan enquires about the book resting on Oliver’s chest. “You’re gonna get a weird tan line watch it.” 

“Yeah. I’ve read this one before but I like it.” Oliver answers, “Now that I got time.”

Ryan lets Oliver read. He stays sitting beside him watching Talan’s neon outline bob in and out of waves. 

The beach is busy with people and the lineup is scattered with other surfers. It’s a private beach without lifeguards and Ryan knows this would make Michael uneasy. The only thing comforting Ryan is the number of professional surfers who seem to know what they’re doing. 

He focuses on Talan, watching him wait for his turn. He watches his son drift closer to the edge of the group and whistles loudly to get his attention. 

“What’s wrong?” Oliver sits up and takes off his sunglasses.

“Talan’s too close to the rocks.” Ryan whistles loudly again, “He’s not looking at me.” 

“I can paddle out…” Oliver offers half-heartedly, “But he’s probably just trying to get a spot in the lineup. He’ll cut across.” Oliver points from one spot in the distant space to another, “And ride to shore.” 

Oliver’s explanation doesn’t calm Ryan down. 

“He’s a good surfer Dad.” Oliver tries, “Like he’s better than me.” 

“I didn’t think he’d paddle that far out.” Ryan tries to whistle again. 

“They told him not to take big waves.” Oliver reminds Ryan, “Like the dude who took him out said he’d tell him which one to go on-” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees not really listening. 

It’s Talan’s turn and the wave is colossal. 

“He’s telling him not to go.” Oliver points out, narrowing his eyes to focus on the surfers. “S’he going?”

“Yeah.” Ryan’s mouth is a tight line, “He dropped in.”

Talan looks tiny against the wave and Ryan feels every nerve in his body tense up. Talan makes it a few seconds in before he bails and disappears under the water. 

“Do you see him?” Oliver panics right away, “Dad he’s in orange do you see-” 

Ryan tells himself that Talan has surfed before, that Talan is a good swimmer, that Talan’s ankle is tied to a floating surfboard that’s almost the same height as him. 

“He should have surfaced.” Oliver calls out. He scans the lineup “Dad do you see him?” 

Ryan walks closer to the edge of the water seconds later Oliver’s standing shoulder to shoulder with him. 

“I can’t see him.” Oliver searches for Tal’s wetsuit, “I… don’t… They’re looking for him too.” 

There are jet skis around and all of them are circling the area frantically. A minute has gone by and dread takes over Ryan’s body. Talan is in trouble. 

The next wave crashes down and as the water flows back, Ryan spots a flash of neon orange by the rocks to the right of the beach, the place Talan had been told to stay clear of. He sees a hand reach up to tug at-

“He’s in the rocks.” Oliver cries out. “They saw it too!” 

Three jet skis are powering towards Talan and Ryan watches in horror as another wave crashes down over Talan who he guesses is stuck amidst the rocks, trapped by his leash. It takes a few more seconds for Ryan to realize that he’s watching Talan drown. He takes off running and Oliver is quickly running ahead of him. 

“Oliver don’t.” Ryan yells out but Oliver’s already diving in. Ryan dives into the water after him but by the time he kicks to the surface, Oliver is yards away from him. 

*

Oliver reaches the jet skis parked at a safe distance from the rocks and hangs onto one of them to catch his breath. Before anyone talks him out of it, a wave washes back and he takes off to go after Talan. 

The end of Talan’s surfboard is stuck between two rocks and the leash is wrapped tightly around Talan’s foot and velcroed to his ankle. Talan, who’d been trying to fight at first, isn’t moving. 

Oliver feels something cut into his arm as he tries to wrench the piece of surfboard free, when that doesn’t work he reaches for Talan’s leash and gets it uncoiled from Talan’s foot. He’s reaching for the Velcro strap when another wave crashes down on them. Oliver takes a deep breath and hangs onto Talan’s shoulders, as the water recedes enough for Oliver to open his eyes again he sees that he’s gripping his brother an inch above where Talan’s broken collar bone has torn through his skin. 

He feels someone else’s hand reaching for Tal’s ankle and seconds later Talan is free. Oliver grabs his brother across the chest and he feels someone grab onto his arm.

“I swim better!” He yells at the man who’s reaching for both of them, “Let me go!” 

Oliver is scared of getting thrown against the rocks again. He kicks off a jagged edge and ignores the pain in his foot. He kicks as hard as he can until there seems to be a safe distance between them and the rocks. 

“I got you Baby it's okay. I got you.” Oliver swims towards one of the jet skis. 

“Breathe Tal.” Oliver orders because he can't feel Talan's chest rising. 

Oliver hears Talan take a breath in and cough. He turns his head to look at him and when Talan coughs again blood sprays Oliver’s face. 

“Holy shit.” Oliver yells. 

Talan is dead weight and swimming with him is exhausting. Oliver remembers having to do this at the pool and remembers that the dummies they’d been pulling hadn’t been this heavy. The dummies hadn’t been real. 

Jet skis surround Oliver just as he feels like his lungs might explodes. Someone reaches down for Talan, grabs the back of his wetsuit and hauls him out of the water before gunning it to shore. 

“Climb on.” Another driver tells Oliver, offering him a hand, “Watch your arm brother.” 

Oliver barely has the strength to pull himself up. Once he’s halfway on, the jet ski takes off. By the time they gets to shore, a crowd is already surrounding Talan and Oliver can’t see anything. 

“Stay here with me.” One of the surfers from earlier takes Oliver’s hand and pulls him away from the crowd, “Sit. Let me look at your arm.” 

Oliver is too dazed to protest. 

“Talan-” He tries. 

“They’re helping him.” The surfer says before holding a dry t-shirt to Oliver’s upper arm, “He’s hurt but they’re helping him there’s a heli coming for him. Look at me though, you got banged up too-” 

“I’m fine.” Oliver tries to get up to go help Talan.

“No brah.” The surfer pushes Oliver back to sitting, “You’re gonna stay here with me. D’you swallow water? Anything else on you cut? Lift up your foot for me brah.” 

Oliver thinks of every question he’s being asked and tries to think up of an answer. Instead he thinks of Tal’s broken collarbone and how his younger brother had been coughing up blood. He tries to remember how long a person can be under water before brain damage sets in. He tries to wonder if they would tell him if Talan was dead. 

“Brah it’s okay.” The surfer reaches out to hug him, “You saved him man, jet skis couldn’t get close. You coulda gotten hurt too. S’your mom at the resort? D’you need your mom?” 

*

Talan’s hand is slippery with blood but Ryan reaches for it anyways, he tries not to look at the parts of Talan where beach towels are being pressed against open wounds. There’s more blood on the sand and on Talan’s wetsuit than Ryan thought a person could lose. 

Talan’s eyes are open wide in panic. 

“Can’t…leg.” Talan tries to say urgently, “Dad-” 

“Talan shhh.” Ryan urges because every time Talan talks, more blood seems to gush out from everywhere. “It’s okay Baby. You’re gonna be okay.” 

“Foot.” Talan panics, “Dad.”

“Shhh.” Ryan tries to sound calm and comforting, “Tal it’s okay. Stay awake.” 

“Hurts.” Talan says again, “Help.”

Ryan feels helpless. He squeezes Talan’s hand. The blood is warm and slimy and Ryan tries hard to ignore it

“Breathe Talan okay?” Ryan hates how shaky his voice sounds, “Look at me and breathe.” 

Talan’s breath is shallow and he makes a strange gurgling sound when he exhales. One of his arms lays helpless by his side and his other hand is still hanging on limply to Ryan’s. 

Ryan tries to comfort him as best he can. He keeps steady pressure on the wound on Talan’s chest and moves out of the way so the person keeping Talan’s collarbone steady has easier access. 

“Someone stabilize his hips.” The surfer, who’d announced he had EMT training before taking over, calls out from his spot keeping Talan’s neck and head steady, “His legs aren’t even and if his hips are broken and he’s bleeding then we need to stabilize them. Wrap a towel around his hips and pull it tight. Keep it tight.” 

“Don’t hurt him.” Ryan finds himself begging, “Please.” 

“I’m trying to help him.” The surfer answers, “Hey, keep him awake. TALAN.” He yells harshly, his face a few inches away from Talan’s. 

“heli is five minutes away.” Someone calls out behind them, “He’s getting airlifted.” 

“You gotta keep him awake.” The surfer stresses to Ryan, “He can’t go into shock. Don’t stop talking to him. That’s your job.”

“Keep breathing Tal.” Ryan encourages, “Don't quit. Look at me.” 

Talan’s eyes open but don’t focus on anyone. Ryan watches him struggle to take another shallow breath. He makes a whining sound when someone puts a towel under his hips and upper thighs and pulls it tight. 

“Good boy keep going. I’m sorry they’re hurting you.” Ryan strokes the side of Talan's face while he talks smearing blood on Talan’s face and in Talan’s hair. “You're gonna be okay. It’s gonna stop hurting Baby. Good boy.” 

“No.” Tal says and his voice is so quiet Ryan almost can't hear him. Talan struggles to breathe again. 

“Don't be scared.” Ryan reassures, “I’m gonna be here the whole time... Just don't stop fighting Baby. Breathe.” 

Ryan tries not to notice that Talan’s lips are turning blue and that his skin is turning a sickly shade of grey. Despite the blazing sun, Talan’s skin is cold and clammy. Ryan forces himself to not look at the puddle of blood. He refuses to acknowledge that this might be it, that this is his kid slowly dying on the beach. 

“TALAN.” The first aid surfer yells harshly, “OPEN YOUR EYES.” 

Talan takes another laboured breath. He shuts his eyes and tears squeeze out. He briefly fights against his head being held down

“No Baby.” Ryan brushes Talan's hair again and finds another cut right below his hairline, “you can't cry and breathe, it's going to be okay, you're gonna be okay. Breathe.” 

Talan closes his eyes and starts to shake. Ryan momentarily looses his grip on his son’s hand and fumbles trying to get it back. 

“He’s going into shock.” The surfer says, “Where the fuck’s the chopper. Try an keep him warm.” 

Ryan can’t bring himself to strain and listen for the sound of a helicopter or search off in the distance to spot it. He focuses instead on Talan’s uneven breathing.

“Good.” Ryan smoothes a hand over Talan's clammy forehead when Talan takes another breath. “Stay awake Baby.” 

Talan’s eyes flutter open for a second before they close again, they stay closed longer this time. 

“Talan.” Ryan says urgently. “Wake up Baby. Breathe.” 

Ryan has no idea where Oliver is. Everything but Talan and his injuries and keeping him awake has faded away. Faintly he starts to hear a helicopter flying closer. 

“If I’m gonna hold my end of the deal you gotta hold yours.” Ryan tells him, “You fight, I fight. I ain’t gonna go nowhere Baby.”

Talan breathes. He’s stopped trying to talk and his eyes stop opening. 

“Good boy.” Ryan whispers blinking back tears. “Stay here Baby, come on.” 

The helicopter lands a dozen meter away and two people run out with a stretcher, a backboard and a medical bag. As they get closer to Talan Ryan is pushed out of the way. He watches as they put Talan on a backboard and slip a neck brace on him. Then someone steps between him and the accident scene and blocks his view. 

“They’re helping him man.” The surfer who’d been holding onto Talan’s hips says, “You’re gonna go along.” 

Ryan looks over his shoulder and takes another look at Talan, he watches them slide a mask connected to a bag over his face and start breathing for him. Once they lift the backboard up to put him on the gurney there’s an alarming blood puddle still congealing over the sand. 

“They got him. One of ‘em is a doctor.” The surfer says, “We got your other kid, his mom back at the resort?” 

“Dad.” Ryan manages to answer, fighting against his grip to be able to see Talan again, “His dad. He’s golfing.”

The details of the day seem so far away now. Ryan can’t see Oliver. All he sees is a beach that looks like several people have been brutally murdered. He needs to be back with Talan. Refuses to have Talan be alone. 

“We’ll get them to the hospital with you after but it’s gonna take longer.” The surfer continues trying to talk, “It’s quicker by chopper. You need to fly him back somewhere with a better hospital closer to here. Better hospital. Med evac him back home today. We did it with a buddy last year. They couldn’t-” 

Ryan stops listening when Talan screams. 

Talan is strapped to the gurney and already has an IV bag flowing into the him. The first medic squeezes the bag while the other medic is clearing off whatever he’d used to do what had made Talan scream. 

“tubo torácico” The paramedic tells him. 

“Chest tube. One of them is a Red Cross doctor.” The EMT surfer translates and reassures, “Do you speak Spanish?” 

“No.” Ryan is tired of questions, he doesn’t get why Talan isn’t already on his way to the hospital. 

“I’ll come with you.” The surfer decides, “I’ll translate.”

Ryan is too dazed to say anything and so the surfer whose name he still doesn’t know squeezes beside him when they get guided into the helicopter ahead of Talan’s gurney. 

They’re already in the air and flying over the ocean when Ryan realizes he’s left Oliver alone on the beach. He can’t remember if someone told him they’d take Oliver back. He feels trapped in a moment that’s worse than any nightmare he’s ever had. 

The only part of Talan he can reach is his foot and Ryan gently wraps his hand around Talan’s toes: one of the only parts of him that isn’t injured. 

Talan’s heart monitor goes haywire, the beeping becoming quicker and quicker. The doctor and the medic speak quickly in Spanish before the medic reaches out and shoves Ryan’s hand away from Talan.

“Stand clear.” The surfer translates, “They have to use the defibrillator.” 

Most of Talan’s wetsuit had already been cut away and ripped off on the beach but now the medic quickly pushes more of the neoprene off of Talan’s skin, leaving him more and more naked and injured and cold on the stretcher. 

“Don’t look.” The surfer tells Ryan, trying to turn his face away, “Come on man.” 

Ryan can’t look away because he can’t let Talan go through this alone. He listens to the too fast pace of Talan’s heart for a few seconds longer before he watches them jolt Talan. He expects him to violently jerk but Talan’s body just spasms before he’s back limp against the stretcher. 

They’d worried about Oliver’s heart so much. When the doctor had told them that the genetic testing had come back inconclusive and that they couldn’t rule out that Michael’s heart condition hadn’t passed onto Oliver. When he’d gotten sick with a virus as a baby and they’d hospitalized him as a precaution. 

Michael had opted not to use his sperm to make Talan in order to prevent the possibility of a baby with heart problems. Ryan had always known Talan was his and Ryan had never worried about Talan’s heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ryan's problems with alcohol were a plot point long before the past few weeks happened. What goes on in this chapter relating to alcohol has been planned for years.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for not showing up at my house with torches. I really appreciate it you guys.

His morning round of golf is boring and Michael misses Talan’s chatter and company. As one of the man he’s golfing with drones on and on about time shares, properties for sale and signing on to lend his name to the design of the resort’s new golf course Michael realizes that this isn’t where he wants to be. Where he wants to be is at the beach with his family. He regrets that after spending two weeks watching Oliver excel at his sport he’d skipped out on watching Talan excel at one of his. 

Michael plays badly and grows increasingly frustrated. He keeps looking at his watch, a birthday present from both boys via Ryan, to count down how much time he has left until he can politely excuse himself to go join his family. He figures that after another half hour he can excuse himself and go join his guys on the beach. 

Michael is at the ninth hole waiting for his turn in the shade of his golf cart when he notices another cart racing across the beautifully landscaped course. The cart speeds across the green, something explicitly forbidden, before it comes to a stop ten feet away from him. He gets nervous when the woman driving gets out and walks straight to him. 

“Your son is in the club house.” The woman tells him, “I need you to come with me.” 

“Which one?” Is Michael’s first reaction, “Blond hair or-”

“Oliver.” She cuts him off, “Please.” 

He leaves his partners, his golf bag and his cart at the ninth hole and follows her to her cart. As she’s driving full speed back to the clubhouse, taking the same turn Talan had almost missed two days earlier, he notices a blood stain on the cuff of her shirt. 

“Is everything okay?” He allows himself to ask at the same time he thinks that it’s ridiculous to assume the blood is Oliver’s. 

Oliver can be demanding and he is definitely spoiled. If Oliver has grown tired of the beach it isn’t totally unexpected of him to walk to the clubhouse and demand for someone to go get his dad. It isn’t unheard of for Oliver to get angry with Ryan and come seek Michael’s help. Ryan’s sense of humour and Oliver’s pride aren’t always a good mix. 

As she’s about the answer him, the woman’s walkie talkie goes off and someone talks in rapid Spanish. She answers the call instead of Michael’s question and Michael assumes that if she’s willing to ignore him, things can’t be so bad. 

Michael wonders what he can do with Oliver for the rest of the day. 

Oliver isn’t waiting for him outside the clubhouse. 

“Where’s my son?” Michael asks as soon as they park. He unfolds himself out of the too small golf cart, “Is he inside?” 

“Sí.” The woman rattles on, “Por favor… Please this way. El médico… is on his way. Your husband-” 

She’s frazzled and dread pools in the bottom of Michael’s stomach. He follows her without asking more questions because he’s too busy trying to understand what’s going on. 

She leads Michael through the main part of the clubhouse, past the bar and the restaurant and into the more formal hallways that lead to the reception rooms. There’s a small group of staff member crowding around the door of the room he’s hurried into. All of them look like they’ve been interrupted halfway through set up, there’s a cart of clean glassware and another of half folded napkins. A dozen flower centerpieces are waiting to be placed on tables. 

Oliver is pacing the length of a reception room and it takes a second for Michael to realize Oliver didn’t just get tired of surfing or fight with Ryan. Oliver’s barefoot and shirtless, his legs, his arms and his chest are caked with sand and blood. Michael freezes at the sight of blood. 

“Ols?” Michael crosses the room in three strides, “What happened? What’s wrong?” 

In the seventeen years of Oliver’s life, Michael has never seen him this dirty or this distraught. Oliver hadn’t been this upset the morning of his shoulder surgery or before his last race in Rotterdam. Oliver hadn’t looked this upset after he’d crashed his car into a lamppost driving to practice in Baltimore. 

Just like that last night in Rotterdam though, Oliver paces. Michael walks beside him for a few seconds in total silence before he stops his son by stepping in front of him. 

“I didn’t-“ Oliver sobs and wipes his nose with the back of his hand, it leaves a streak of blood across his face, “I’m so sorry. Dad I’m sorry.” 

“Bud. No.” It’s only when Michael tries to reach out to touch Oliver that he realizes how much blood is on his son. “Are you bleeding?” 

“I couldn’t see him. I dunno if he’s okay. I coulda been there faster if I-”

“Oliver.” Michael says firmly, grasping both of Oliver’s shoulders. “You’re bleeding. Where are you hurt?” 

“We gotta find Talan.” Oliver says urgently, “He’s not good.”

Michael stops listening to Oliver talk. He gives his son a once over and finds a deep cut on Oliver’s arm and another one on his foot. There are bloody footprints throughout the reception hall. 

“Do you have a doctor here?” Michael calls out to the staff now hovering against the back wall with the dishes and the flowers. Michael can’t tell if the cuts on Oliver are deep enough the need stitches but even without the cuts Oliver doesn’t seem okay. 

“Bud, your arm’s cut up. Where’s your dad?” Michael asks because he knows that never in a million years Ryan would have left Oliver alone while he was injured. 

Michael wants to sit Oliver down but all the chairs are still stacked up near the empty DJ booth. He guides Oliver down to the floor instead and kneels in front of him. 

“What’s wrong Ols?” Michael interrogates, “What happened?”

Oliver looks up at him with what seems like great difficulty. He swallows a sob and coughs before bringing up his hand to wipe his face again. Blood drips from his fingers and he doesn’t seem to notice it. 

“Tal hit the rocks.” He falters.

“Tal did what?” Michael’s heart sinks.

Oliver coughs again, he coughs until he gags and throws up water on the floor next to him.

“Bud.” Michael rubs Oliver’s back, “Breathe Oliver it’s okay.” 

Oliver keeps coughing. He gags again and throws up a second time. 

“Get a doctor.” Michael orders, not bothering to translate. “Or a nurse.”

Oliver’s coughing calms down and Michael finally figures that most of the blood is coming from the cut on his upper arm. He grabs one of the folded linen napkins from the table next to them and presses it hard against Oliver’s arm. 

“Ols where’s dad?” Michael asks. He hands him another napkin. “Breathe.” 

“He went in the helicopter with Tal.” 

“What happened to Tal?” Michael feels like he might throw up too. The pieces of the story don’t all quite add up but he can put them together to get a general picture and so far it doesn’t look great. If Ryan had to leave without Oliver it means that Talan has to be grievously injured. 

“He hit the rocks his leash got all tangled and he was cut up… His bone was.” Oliver looks at Michael pained, “He coughed blood in my face.” 

“Where were they going?” Michael feels horrible for continuing to grill his injured son with questions but he guesses that no one else knows what’s happening. 

“I don’t know.” Oliver admits quietly before his head drops, he coughs again. 

“It’s okay Bud.” Michael reassures, he sits across from Oliver and pulls him in for a hug.

Michael feels Oliver press his face into his neck and continue to cry. Michael leans his head sideways against his son and holds him there. He can’t bring himself to think about Talan and Ryan when Oliver is clearly in distress. A huge part of him is irrationally angry with Ryan for abandoning Oliver like this. 

Oliver sobs and Michael doesn’t know what to do to comfort him. It takes a while for Oliver to calm down and sit up away from his dad. He wipes his face with the napkin that’s meant to keep pressure on his arm. 

“We gotta find Tal and Dad.” He plans, infinitely calmer than he’d been beforehand. 

Michael knows that this is part of Oliver’s training. Countless USA Swimming psychologists have coached Oliver on mental toughness. They have taught him techniques to block out the things that are bothering him to focus on the task at hand. Michael knows that it’s necessary for competition but he’s also learned from experience that using it to escape painful life moments is dangerous.

“We need to get your arm stitched up.” Michael notes gently, “Did you get cut anywhere else?” 

“My foot.” Oliver replies. “I had to kick to get us out before another wave got to-”

“You went under?” Michael prods trying to understand. 

“Yeah. He was caught, I couldn’t like…” Oliver closes his eyes.

“Ols.” Michael slowly comes to the realization that while he’d been listening to countless business pitches he’d almost lost both his kids. “We need someone to look at your arm.” 

“No.” Oliver requests, “Tal’s hurt bad.” 

Michael doesn’t have time to think about Talan. On his newfound list of things to do worrying about Talan is something he isn’t allowing himself to focus on because Oliver is right next to him and Oliver needs help. For the current moment, Michael needs to think of the things he has the power to fix. 

* 

“I’m Cam.” 

Talan’s heartbeat had stayed steady for the rest of the flight to the hospital but despite the two person medical team, his blood pressure had dropped and his oxygen levels had been low. After they’d wheeled him out of the helicopter, another puddle of blood had been left on the floor. It had stuck to the bottom of Ryan’s flip-flops. 

Talan had not regained consciousness and Ryan can’t get his last scream out of his head. Ryan can’t remember where he’d been instead of being right beside his son. He remembers the bits and pieces of sentences Talan had tried to say and he tries to piece them together. Talan’s hips are probably broken, maybe Talan hadn’t been able to feel his feet. Maybe Talan hadn’t been able to move his legs. 

Talan had been hurt and in pain and Ryan hadn’t been able to do anything to help him out. 

Ryan doesn’t even know if Talan is in surgery or if he’s in x-rays. He doesn’t even know if this hospital has an x-ray or an MRI machine. He’d signed a waiver to allow them to give Talan a blood transfusion. 

“I’m Cam.” The surfer says again. 

“Ryan.” Ryan answers automatically. 

“Is Tah-lahn allergic ta anything?” Cam asks, “Like codeine or peanuts?” 

“No.” Ryan shakes his head, trying not to be annoyed by the mispronunciation of his kid’s name, “He’s not.” 

“His blood type?” 

“They’re already givin’ him blood.” Ryan looks up alarmed, “They don’t know?” 

Not being in control of the situation is frightening. From what he’s seen and from what he’s been told, this isn’t a trauma center. The thought that they’re giving Talan blood without knowing his blood type makes Ryan want to go find his kid and rip IVs out of his arms. 

“His blood type?” Cam repeats, “I know this is tough but you gotta-” 

“B neg.” Ryan answers, “If I give blood can they give it to him? I’m the same and that way it’s safe he won’t-” 

The hospital is warm and Ryan feels his composure break off bit by bit. He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and tries to wipe off the screen on his board shorts. 

“Call your husband.” Cam scans through the rest of the paperwork, “You’re-” 

Ryan holds up a hand to get him to stop talking. 

“Mate.” Cam puts down the forms, “It’s a dangerous sport, we do this… Not all the time but it’s the med evac I got the number and you call your husband and he can-” 

Ryan gets up. He can’t hear that this is normal, can’t think about Talan getting blood that isn’t safe in a hospital that can’t help him. Can’t think that the closest American hospital is almost three hours away by plane. 

“Call your husband.” Cam repeats, “Tell him you’re here and your kid needs to get a medevac flight back stateside. He needs to bring passports.” 

“S’he gonna make it back?” Ryan chokes out. 

“The faster it happens the better chance he has.” 

“I don’t even know where my other kid is.” Ryan admits, he can’t think of calling Michael with the news that Talan is critically injured and that he left Oliver on a beach in Costa Rica. 

Talan needs a better hospital though and Ryan can’t spend another second in the stuffy hallway. He walks away from Cam and takes turns until he finds a door that leads outside. 

It takes him a second to convince himself to dial and another to talk himself into putting the phone to his ear. He pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand and tries to keep it together until Michael answers. 

Ryan thinks that of all the calls he’s ever had to make, this one might be the most horrible. 

He’s never been good at thinking before speaking but he knows that he can’t tell Michael about Talan without breaking down. He can’t just say that Talan’s injured like all he has is a broken arm and a concussion. This isn’t like driving Talan to the hospital for a few stitches. This is major. He has no idea if Talan is okay or if he’s going to be okay. 

He knows that they’d shoved a tube between Talan’s ribs while he was still awake and put another tube down his throat to help him breathe. He knows that Talan’s heart had been giving out, he knows that Talan’s lost more blood than it seemed a person’s body could hold. He knows that Talan’s been given blood that might not be safe. 

“Ry?” Michael answers, “I got Oliver. Where are you?” 

 

*

The resort has a tiny medical clinic. It has two curtained off beds and windows and doors that are opened out to the beach. There is sand on the floor and Michael thinks for a second to bring up the fact that it can’t be hygienic. 

Oliver is wearing a polo shirt from the golf club giftshop but his boardshorts are the same. He’s clutching a clean bar towel over the cut on his arm and hasn’t said a word to anyone in the last ten minutes. 

Oliver has been irrationally afraid of needles since Michael can remember. He’d had meltdowns as a baby and as a toddler and they had never stopped. This time though, as the doctor brings out the syringe to freeze his arm before suturing the wound closed, Oliver doesn’t say a word. 

“Just don’t look.” Michael offers. 

Michael sits beside Oliver and closes a hand over the wrist of his cut out arm. Trained by years of nurses to hold down Oliver before he flips out. He’s ready to turn Oliver’s face away but Oliver doesn’t start to struggle.

“It’s okay.” Oliver almost whispers. 

“How many stitches?” Michael asks the doctor as she’s putting the syringe back on a tray. 

“Five.” She answers, “Six maybe. His foot doesn’t need them.” 

She’s two stitches in before Michael is convinced Oliver won’t panic. He lets go of his son’s wrist and rubs his back instead. 

“Just three more Bud.” He comforts, “Breathe.” 

“It’s okay.” Oliver repeats. Oliver thinks of the cuts on Talan and of how many stitches Talan will need. Five doesn’t seem so bad. “You have to call Dad.” 

Michael had tried to call Ryan but he hadn’t answered. 

So Michael had called everyone else. He’d called their lawyer, his manager, Ryan’s manager, Oliver’s manager and their PR people. He’d called anyone who might be able to help and had pleaded with them to help out even if what he was asking wasn’t exactly covered under their job description. He was holding onto the hope that people who’d been involved in their lives for years would remember Talan as the toddler from office visits and as a baby who’d slept on Michael’s chest during meetings and be moved to help out. 

He’d called Bruce and Caleb in Miami because as a retired trauma surgeon Bruce could provide the best advice for Talan out of anyone else in his contact list. Bruce had urged him to take Talan back to the United States as soon as possible. Still working on the board of directors of the hospital Bruce had promised he could have a team ready and waiting for Talan. He’d provided the name of a company that could bring Talan back as soon as possible with a team of doctor that were trained to handle the level of trauma Talan might have suffered. 

“Talan wasn’t good.” Oliver worries, “You gotta find them.” 

Oliver has been wavering between being agitated and being almost catatonic. His skin is cold and he shivers even with a blanket over him. Michael is worried. A normal Oliver would have fought a syringe and stitches. 

“Oliver.” Michael takes a second to brush away the tears on Oliver’s face. He looks around for a washcloth or something he can use to wash the blood off Oliver’s face, “I have twenty people looking for your dad and for Tal and as soon as we know where they are there’s going to be a plane waiting to take Talan to Miami with Uncle Bruce. I’m doing everything I can.” 

“He might be dead.” Oliver chokes out, “There was a lot of blood.” 

“Talan’s not dead.” Michael states firmly, “Your brother won’t give up.” 

Michael wants to believe his words more than he wants Oliver to believe them. Michael doesn’t allow himself to think of Talan not making it. He tells himself that Oliver is over exaggerating the injuries he’d seen. Michael tells himself that maybe Talan had a bad break and a few cuts. Michael waits for Ryan to call back saying that Talan is in recovery and fine. Waits for Ryan to laugh at him for having arranged a medical transfer back to the United States. 

Talan has waited for months to go visit the turtle sanctuary and they’d planned on going the next day. There’s no way Talan can die. 

“All done Oliver.” The doctor says gently before wrapping gauze over his arm, “Are you hurting?” 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head, “Thanks.” 

“Do you have like…” Michael watches Oliver shake, “Ativan for him or something to-” 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head again. 

“Ols.” Michael is ready to talk over his son and ask for anything that might make this easier for Oliver to deal with. He is stopped when his cellphone ring. He looks at the caller ID, sees Ryan’s name and answers right away. 

“Ry?” Michael says, “I got Oliver. Where are you?” 

“Dad.” Oliver turns to speak to Ryan, “I’m sorry. Dad- I-” 

“Shhh.” Michael takes the blanket that’s around Oliver and drapes it over his injured arm, “Bud you don’t got to be sorry.” 

“S’he good?” Ryan asks and he sounds as close to tears and hysterics as Oliver. 

“He got stitches. He threw up water. He’s okay.” Michael reassures, “How’s Tal?” 

“I don’t know.” Ryan admits, “They took him an like I dunno if he’s in surgery or if they got a surgeon or if he’s… They gave him blood but like do they know what type he is or is it safe? Do they test their blood? His heart was… he couldn’t breathe. I don’t know-” 

“Ry.” Michael keeps his voice firm and gets up from the bed to keep Oliver from listening in on the convo. “Stop. Breathe. Talk.” 

Michael listens to Ryan take a few deep breaths. 

“We gotta medevac him.” Ryan says, “You gotta bring passports and I dunno who to call or like-” 

The reality sets in. Oliver hadn’t been exaggerating. Michael tries to cope with the news that Talan is just as badly injured as Oliver had said. He lets himself feel the pain and the panic of it for a few seconds before he focuses back on his plan. He knows that he’s doing the exact same thing as Oliver, that he’s compartmentalizing his feelings but he knows it has to be done. 

“I got it.” Michael reassures, “Just tell me where you are.” 

Ryan gives him the name of the hospital and Michael tries to remember it in Spanish. He asks Ryan to repeat it for a second time. 

“Just say it to me.” Oliver asks, “I speak Spanish.” 

Oliver’s face is clean. When Michael looks behind him, he sees the doctor still holding a washcloth. He nods at her in thanks. 

Michael repeats the name aloud for Oliver to remember and Oliver says it three times a loud to himself, a technique he’d used for studying for his SATs. Watching Oliver do such a familiar thing in a setting that feels so foreign is unsettling. 

“We’re on our way Doggy.” Michael says to Ryan once the name of the hospital has been memorized, “Want to stay on the phone?” 

“No.” Ryan answers, “I can’t have it on in the building and I wanna be there in case they got news or I can see him. I might hafta sign- Can I give him my blood?” 

“Sign whatever.” Michael gives permission right away, “If it’s gonna help him sign it.” 

Ryan doesn’t answer but Michael can imagine him nodding. 

“We’ll be there soon.” Michael keeps talking to a silent Ryan, “He’s gonna be okay.” 

A large part of Michael wants to breakdown too. Wants to be as silent as Ryan and as unable to cope with the reality of what’s going on. He can’t though. One of them needs to be the adult and at the moment Ryan doesn’t seem to be able to do much except worry about Talan. Michael tries to forgive him for abandoning Oliver on the beach but thinking of Oliver alone, injured and scared is too much. Michael still has no idea how Oliver made it back to the resort. 

Their passports are in the safe of the master bedroom of their cabana and Michael grabs them while Oliver waits in one of the resort’s vans. On his way out of the room, Michael spots the book he’d seen Oliver reading a few days beforehand on Ryan’s bedside table and grabs it. 

It’s a two-hour drive and Michael wishes Oliver would sleep. Instead, Oliver draws his knees up and stares straight. He doesn’t look out the window or read his book. He just stares straight ahead at the back of the headrest in front of him. 

“Ols.” Michael says carefully after watching him for twenty minutes, “Talk to me.” 

Oliver unfolds his legs and Michael is reminded that he’s still wearing his blood stained board shorts. Michael regrets not grabbing an extra pair for him to change into. 

“How d’you get back to the resort?” Michael asks. 

“I don’t know.” Oliver’s words are slow, “I don’t remember.” 

Oliver doesn’t seem alarmed by this. Doesn’t seem to think it worrisome to not remember an hour into the past. Instead he turns back around to stare at the headrest. 

“Oliver.” Michael asks for his attention again, “What day is it.” 

“Wednesday.” Oliver answers. 

Michael had never paid attention during the first aid classes at Meadowbrook. He’d almost always showed up late and spent most of the time he could get away with texting. 

Once the boys had been born though, he’d started paying more attention to the classes Ryan held at the Speed Club. With two small boys and a pool in their backyard it seemed imperative to learn CPR. 

Michael tries to remember what he’d learned about shock. Something he’d paid attention to after Ryan’s father had passed away and Ryan seemed to spend his days walking around dazed. A few days after it had happened, Ryan couldn’t recall the details of the day. Couldn’t remember that they’d been in Baltimore when they’d gotten the news and flown to Florida. Couldn’t remember how they’d gotten home.

“Oliver.” Michael knows he’s probably irritating his son, “Talk to me it’s okay. What did we have for breakfast?” 

“You gave Tal the rest of your coffee.” Oliver remembers. 

“Yeah.” Michael praises, “Are you cold Bud?” 

Oliver shakes his head no and turns away from Michael. 

“Oliver.” Michael bothers him again. 

“Cuánto tiempo antes de llegar al hospital” Oliver ignores Michael to ask the driver. 

The driver answers. 

“An hour and a half.” Oliver translates, “How long before the plane is here?” 

“I don’t know Ols.” Michael tells him, “When we get there we have to-” 

“Is he having surgery here?” Oliver asks again, “I need to-” 

Michael knows what Oliver wants. Oliver wants this to make sense. Oliver wants a plan with steps that he can rely on. He wants to know what will happen next. Oliver wants to feel like he’s somehow in charge. 

“I don’t know Oliver.” Michael hates not being able to give his son the answer he needs, “We’ll figure it out when we’re with Dad.” 

Oliver leans back against his seat and closes his eyes resigning himself to not having a solid plan to hold onto. 

“Bud.” Michael undoes his seat belt and moves closer to Oliver, “It’s okay.” 

Oliver is unresponsive to Michael’s touch. He doesn’t hug back or acknowledge that Michael’s trying to comfort him. He hangs his head forward and brings his fingers to his mouth to chew on his nails. 

“I promise you.” Michael knows his promise is empty and he knows that he’s probably going to be saying the same thing to Ryan in the next two hours, “Talan’s going to be okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Between having a bad cold and my macbook power adapter quitting on me earlier this morning. This chapter isn't exactly as long as it should have been and it doesn't get you as far into the story as I'd hoped it would. 
> 
> Thank you for your patience.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this <3

Michael feels useless. 

His phone signal fades in and out, Ryan’s phone is turned off and Michael can’t get anyone who picks up the phone at the hospital to pass him to someone with answers. When he does have reception, Michael cycles through calling the five people who are helping him get Talan back to the United States. He calls Bruce in Miami to get news on the team that will be waiting for Talan. He listens to his friend talk about the orthopaedic surgeon who’s cancelled a day’s worth of surgery to be available to Talan and he figures he should be comforted. All Michael can focus on though is the fact that Talan needs surgery and that Talan is at least five hours away from the team that’s waiting to put him back together. 

“Did he call the hospital?” Oliver calls out over Michael. 

“Hold on a second.” Michael tells Bruce. He turns his attention from the conversation with Bruce to his son, “What Ols?” 

“Did he call the hospital? Does he know what’s going on?” Oliver huffs out frustrated, “S’he trying to figure out if Talan’s okay?” 

“We’re trying.” Bruce answers after overhearing Oliver. 

“No Bud.” Michael informs Oliver. 

Oliver groans frustrated. His phone is back in their room at their resort. He chews on the side of his thumb. 

“Gimme your phone.” Oliver demands. 

“No.” Michael shoots off, “I’m talking.” 

“I talk Spanish.” Oliver argues, “I’m gonna call the hospital and figure out what’s up with Tal. I can speak Spanish.”

Michael stops paying attention to what he assumes are more of Bruce’s reassurances to look at his son. Oliver’s idea is logical but Michael doesn’t want to put that burden on Oliver.

“No Oliver.” Michael tells him again. He reaches to take Oliver’s hand away from his mouth. “We’re going to be there in-” 

“Why?” Oliver says, “No one else gives a fuck about- Talan’s dying and you don’t care you just want to sit here and call Uncle Bruce and not do anything that-” 

“Hey.” Michael’s head snaps up to look at Oliver, “I’ll call you back.” He tells Bruce. 

Oliver is back to chewing on the nails he’d already chewed off in Rotterdam. He glares at Michael accusingly, clearly pissed off. 

“All I’ve been doing.” Michael tries to stay calm, “Since we got in here is try to help Tal and your dad out.” 

“It’s not enough.” Oliver huffs out, “You don’t even know if he’s still alive. You didn’t see him you don’t know how bad it was. There was blood everywhere and they had to breathe for him. If he was under and he wasn’t breathing then maybe his brain and like his bone was sticking out so think of the sand and the water and how dirty it is and-” 

“Oliver.” Michael interrupts him, “Stop.” 

“I can’t.” Oliver says and his voice sounds little. 

“Stop biting your nails.” Michael requests. “Let me take care of this.” 

“No.” Oliver exclaims, “I can’t.” 

The panic in Oliver’s voice is unsettling and Michael is at a loss. Oliver is unraveling and Michael isn’t sure how to keep him together until they get to the hospital. He doesn’t even know if getting to the hospital will help. Ryan probably isn’t in a state to help and getting to the hospital might bring worst news than what they know right now. 

“Bud.” Michael says in the calmest dad voice he can muster, “I-” 

He doesn’t know what to say. Michael is used to taking pride in how well Oliver handles new situations. He usually boasts about Oliver’s ability to cope with the stress of handling training, school and competitions. He’s used to watching Oliver tackle on challenges with self-confidence and experience success. He’s watched Oliver cope with failure and difficult situations and seen him still come out on to. 

Michael is used to listening to doctors talk about Talan’s inability to cope. He’d secretly sometimes allowed himself to feel superior because the child he’d fathered had never ended up in a therapist’s office learning breathing exercises to calm himself down or been prescribed medication to stop anxiety attacks. 

There had been a quick fix to Oliver’s shoulder problem, a quick fix to Oliver’s meltdowns at practice but there had never been a quick fix to Talan’s problems. Michael had never figured out a concrete way to help Talan.

Because he hasn’t known how to deal with his problems, Michael had spent the last year distancing himself from Talan He’d left to go back to Baltimore the day after Talan’s psychologist had invited Ryan and him to sit in on a session where Talan had admitted that he had thought of hurting himself.  
Talan had admitted to stashing pain pills and cold medicine in a baggy under his mattress. He’d admitted that he’d thought of taking them to not have to deal with being lonely and feeling like a failure. 

His psychologist had suggested inpatient care but Talan had insisted he’d never had a plan to take them that it was just something he’d thought about. They’d chosen to believe him and not his psychologist.

There had once again been no concrete way of helping Talan and Michael had disagreed with putting his youngest on anti-depressants. It had been a massive fight between Ryan and him and Michael had left. Once he’d been in Baltimore, he had claimed to be too busy with Oliver to come back home to deal with Talan. 

Michael feels his throat and his stomach knot up at the thought that Talan could be gone. That he had spent a year pushing away the kid who probably needed the most love. That he’d spent a year taking out some of the anger and the resentment he’d felt towards Ryan on Talan. 

“It was really bad dad he-” Oliver interrupts his thinking. 

“Think of something else.” Michael suggests right before his phone rings again. He looks at the screen, sees Bruce’s number and knows he has to answer, “Multiplication tabl-” 

“Let me call.” 

“No.” Michael almost apologizes to Oliver before answering “Hi, yeah, B neg.” 

“I want to give him blood.” Oliver calls out, “Tell uncle Bruce I want to-” 

“Oliver.” Michael turns to look at him, “Stop.” 

“You stop.” Oliver snaps back, “Call the hospital fuck. Do something fucking useful.” 

It’s the first time Oliver ever angrily yells at him and Michael isn’t sure what to do. 

“Oliver.” He warns again, “Stop.” 

“No!” Oliver yells, “I’m telling you what you need to do and-” 

“Oliver Charles.” Michael looses his patience. “This is what I’m doing to help Talan.” 

“You don’t care about Talan.” Oliver keeps pushing, taking out his anger on the only other person he can at the moment, “You’re mad at dad so you don’t-” 

“Don’t be stupid.” Michael bites and instantly regrets his words, “Think about what you’re saying.” 

Oliver’s accusation hit too close to home and Michael turns away from him for a second. He tries to focus on Bruce’s question about calling family before he turns his attention back to Oliver. 

“I want to call the hospital.” Oliver yells before he balls his fist and punches the seat in front of him hard. 

He punches the seat again before Michael drops his phone and closes his hand over Oliver’s fist preventing him from hurting himself again. 

“I want the car to go faster.” Oliver pleads, wiping his face with the hand Michael isn’t restraining. “I want to know what’s going on.” 

“Ols.” Michael says carefully, “Breathe.” 

“No.” Oliver replies. “Lemme call.” 

Michael doesn’t know what to do to help. He squeezes Oliver’s hand and rubs his fingers over his son’s scraped knuckles. He grabs the blanket from in between them and tries to put it over Oliver.

Oliver pulls his hand away and shrugs off the blanket. 

“Mike.” He hears the far off voice come from the phone resting beside him on the seat, “Give him to me.” 

“Here.” Michael grabs his phone and hands it to Oliver, “Talk to Uncle Bruce, don’t hang up on him.” 

Michael can’t overhear the conversation between Oliver and Bruce but he watches Oliver nod and listens to him give one-worded answers. Slowly, the tension eases out of Oliver’s shoulder and he goes slack against his seat. Oliver starts biting his nails and Michael doesn’t bother knocking his hand away. 

Bruce and Caleb have two sons of their own, who are both already in college. Bruce has been through more teenage breakdowns than him and Michael is suddenly extremely grateful that his friend is willing to not only organize a team of doctors to save Talan’s life but also to calm down Oliver. Michael can’t think of how he’s ever going to repay Bruce. 

Without his phone or any other distraction Michael watches Oliver closely. He looks for clues that Oliver might try to hit something again and try to hurt himself. The gauze wrapped around Oliver’s arm has slipped and Michael reaches to pull it up. Oliver’s skin still feels cold but Michael doesn’t try to put the blanket over him again. 

Fixing his attention on Oliver helps Michael keep his mind off Talan and the nightmare he assumes is waiting for them at the hospital. It keeps his mind off the fact that he has to call his family and give them the news. That he has to call his mom and tell her that her grandson is hurt. He remembers that he has to call Hilary and ask her to fly to Miami to take care of Oliver. He has trouble keeping his checklist straight and he can’t seem to prioritize which task is more important.

“He says that it was good Tal was awake.” Oliver suddenly speaks up sounding calmer, “He says maybe I can give blood.” 

“You can’t.” Michael answers too quickly. 

“If I want to I can.” Oliver debates calmly, “If Talan needs it I can.”

Michael doesn’t have the heart to tell Oliver that Talan and him don’t share the same blood type. He nods and goes along with the plan because Oliver sounds calmer. 

“¿Cuánto tiempo hasta que -” Oliver starts to ask the driver. 

“Quince minutos.” The driver answers before Oliver gets a chance to finish, “Casi allí” 

“Almost there.” Oliver translates, “Call Dad.” 

*

It takes Ryan an hour to fill out the insurance paper and to Google translate all the words he doesn’t understand. Ryan’s hands shake as he goes through his wallet trying to find the folded piece of paper with their insurance policy number. He feels like he might need to have his heart shocked back into a regular rhythm every time the hallway doors open and a gurney is wheeled out.

No one has come out to give him news on Talan but he can’t bring himself to leave to call Michael. Ryan feels like he needs to stay inside the hospital, down the hall from the doors through which they’d taken Talan. He feels like maybe Talan won’t feel so alone if he stays as close to him as possible. 

Ryan avoids Cam and chooses to sit by himself. He doodles on the corner of the paper instead of trying to figure out if their insurance covers prescription drugs in a foreign country. 

Talan’s scream from before seems to echo in the silence of the deserted hallway. Ryan clasps his hands over his ears trying to get it to stop. He tries to repress the urge to walk up and punch the wall. 

Ryan is still sitting with his eyes closed and his hands over his ears when someone kneels in front of him.

“Ryan.” Michael says before he knocks his hands away from his ears, “Ry.” 

There have been plenty of moments in their lives when Ryan had been relieved to see Michael. He’d been relieved to see him walk into his room in Athens and relieved to see him at every competition afterwards. He’d been relieved to see him walk out of the airport or to spot him waiting in a car as he walked out of the arrival terminal. Ryan had been relieved to see Michael walk into the NICU after Oliver had been born and comforted by his presence in the waiting room after his father had died. Spotting him in the crowd in Rio had made it easier to swim and watching him walk into the hospital room holding a newborn Talan had been one of the happiest moments of his life. Locking eyes with him in the muggy hallway of this hospital though might be the most relief and comfort Ryan has ever found in Michael’s presence. 

“Holy shit.” Michael stares at the blood on Ryan’s clothes, “Is that all his?” 

Ryan nods.

“Switch.” Michael says right away before he can ask anything else because getting Ryan out of blood stained clothes seems more important. 

Michael takes off his polo shirt as he talks, forgetting about Oliver for a second to focus on Ryan. Ryan though seems to be as connected to the real world as Oliver had been in the car. He doesn’t seem to register Michael’s offer. 

“Take off your shirt.” Michael repeats, holding out his polo, “Take this.” 

“I’m sorry I left Ols.” Ryan says instead, “Tal needed help and he was screaming. They put a tube in his ribs while he was still awake before I don’t know they had to put him under or he passed out or… They didn’t have blood in the ambulance and they had to like shock his heart cause it wasn’t beating good.” 

“Switch your shirt Doggy.” Michael says gently, halfway to stop Ryan from crying and halfway to make sure that Oliver, who is standing a few feet away, doesn’t overhear the details. 

“Ols found me.” Michael pulls up on the hem of Ryan’s t-shirt and waits for him to take it off. “He’s okay.” 

“Tal was too close to the rocks.” Ryan hangs his head. 

“I know.” Michael tries to look away from Ryan because the amount of blood on Ryan makes it real. Looking at Ryan, Michael knows how bad things really are. “Babe switch your shirt. It’s gonna be okay.” 

Michael talks to Ryan in the same tone of voice he’d used with Oliver earlier but Ryan doesn’t protest. He also doesn’t take off his shirt. 

“They had to.” Ryan rubs his eyes. “Shock his heart and breathe for him with a bag and like shoving tubes down his throat and squeezing his IV bags. It’s bad.”

“Doggy.” Michael reaches forward and hugs Ryan, “Stop.” 

“I can’t.” Ryan echoes Oliver’s statement from earlier. 

“Come on switch your shirt.” Michael urges again, he leans closer to Ryan so Oliver can’t overhear, “You gotta keep it together for Ols. Come on Ry.”

Ryan nods against Michael’s shoulder and Michael hears him take a deep breath in. 

“There’s a med evac flight coming for him.” Michael explains, trying to comfort Ryan with the fact that he has a plan. “They’re gonna fly him to Miami. ” 

“Why Miami?” Ryan manages to ask. 

“Bruce is there.” Michael answers, “It’s close. They’re waiting for him.” 

Ryan nods again and lifts his head up. He pulls off his shirt and he pulls on the one Michael is still offering him. 

“Thanks.” Michael says, “That’s better.” 

“Ols’ okay?” Ryan enquires once he’s pulled Michael’s shirt over his head. 

“Yeah.” Michael points to Oliver standing a few feet away staring into space, “They brought him to me he’s good. Bud, come here.” 

“Gator I’m sorry.” Ryan apologizes, “I didn’t have time to-” 

“It’s okay.” Oliver brushes off, “I’m okay.” 

“You’re not.” Ryan gets up and walks towards his son, “You hurt your arm?”

Oliver nods. 

Ryan doesn’t say anything else. He wraps his arms around Oliver and hugs him. He presses his lips to the side of Oliver’s head before he opens his eyes to look at Michael. 

“He’s okay Ry.” Michael reassures, “They stitched up his arm. He swallowed some water but he’s okay.” 

“I told you not to swim out.” Ryan chokes up talking to Oliver, “You coulda-”

“Ry.” Michael stops him, “He’s okay don’t.” 

It all feels awkward and slow and uneasy, like they’ve forgotten how to act around each other. Michael watches Ryan hug Oliver and knows he should be hugging them too but he can’t bring himself to move. He stays stuck where he is, holding Ryan’s bloody t-shirt. 

Everything up until that moment had been geared towards getting to the hospital. Now that they’ve arrived everything seems at a standstill. Nothing is changed, nothing has been done and Talan’s condition is still unknown. Michael still feels useless. 

“You guys stay here.” Michael instructs, “I’m going to see if there’s a doctor who can call Bruce so we can get Baby home.” 

“I got this guy.” Ryan reassures, arms still firmly around Oliver, “I called um my family… I can-” 

“Not yet.” Michael pleads, not wanting to call his family until everything is certain. “Just wait… My mom-” 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan nods, “We’re gonna stay here. He’s cold do you have a-” 

“I’m fine.” Oliver argues again, “Stop worrying ‘bout me.” 

“I’ll find something.” Michael reassures, “A blanket or-” 

“Go.” Oliver stresses, “I gotta know if Tal’s-” 

Michael reconsiders leaving because he doesn’t know if Ryan is capable of taking care of Oliver. Ryan doesn’t even seem able to cope with himself and Michael worries that he won’t be able to make sure Oliver is okay. 

“Ry.” Michael calls out, “You gotta-” 

“I got him.” Ryan assures in a voice that isn’t that convincing, “Go.” 

“Let me come.” Oliver detangles himself from Ryan’s grasp, “I can translate or I can-” 

“No.” Michael refuses, “Stay here.” 

“Can I have your phone?” Oliver requests, “To check if-” 

“No Bud.” Michael refuses again, “I need it.” 

“You can help me fill these out.” Ryan holds up the forms so Oliver can see them, “That can be your job right now.” 

“Ok yeah.” Oliver nods and for a second he becomes more focussed, “I can do that.” 

Reassured that Ryan hasn’t lost his ability to parent, Michael heads down to the nurses’ station.

Ryan grabs the pile of papers he’d been filling out and returns to his chair. Oliver sits on the ground beside him leaning his head against Ryan’s legs.

“Do they know his blood type?” Oliver asks, trying the questions Michael hadn’t answered out on Ryan “Did you tell them or are they gonna figure it out because if they don’t give him the right- Dad gave it to Uncle Bruce so they have some waiting in Miami, he’s B negative and so that means he can get-” 

“They know.” Ryan drops a hand from the clipboard to rest on Oliver’s head, “Talan’s safe.” 

It’s a statement Ryan doesn’t fully believe but concentrating on keeping Oliver calm helps keep his own panic at bay. He runs his hands through Oliver’s beach tangled hair trying to get him to relax. 

“Do they test blood in Costa Rica? Like what are the regulations?” Oliver tugs on the hem of Ryan’s board shorts until Ryan looks down at him, “Because like if it’s not then Baby probably shouldn’t be…. Unless we give it to him, like I’m clean and I hate needles but I’ll do it. ‘Cause if they don’t test for diseases then he’s better getting it from me than-”

“I don’t know.” Ryan admits, flipping back through the pages looking for one where he’d signed off on blood transfusions. “He needed blood.” 

“Is that why they had to shock his heart? Because he lost too much blood? Was he not breathing anymore? Uncle Bruce said it was good he was talking and breathing but if he stopped-” 

“I don’t know Gator.” Ryan points to an unfilled line in the paperwork. “What does this mean?” 

“His height.” Oliver answers, “The other one’s his weight.” 

“He’s 5’8”?” Ryan asks even though he knows Talan’s height. 

“About the blood, I’m clean and it’s better because we’re family right like I won’t-”

“You’re not the same blood type.” Ryan breaks the news, “You can give blood if you want, but it can’t go to Talan.” 

“We’re brothers.” Oliver tugs on Ryan’s shorts again, “How does it not-” 

“I dunno how it works.” Ryan says quickly, not wanting this moment to be the first time he refers to Oliver and Talan as half-brothers. “You lost blood too so it’s probably not a good time. You gotta be okay too.” 

“I want to help.” Oliver pleads, “I gotta do something. Tell me what to do.” 

“You’re helping me.” Ryan reminds him, “You helped Tal. You did good. You got him out.” 

“No one else was going.” Oliver chokes out, “He was gonna drown we both went under and I couldn’t get him out. ” 

Ryan signs the very last page and settles on the floor next to Oliver. He lets Oliver lean his head on his shoulder and Ryan rubs some dried blood off of Oliver’s knee. Ryan puts an arm back around him and Oliver starts shivering. 

“I’m not cold.” Oliver states before Ryan can say anything.

“You’re shaking.” 

“I know. I can’t stop.” 

“It’s ok.” Ryan knows his words are empty. He holds him closer. “It’s just broken bones.” 

“Don’t.” Oliver warns, “Like I was there.” 

“They’re gonna help him.” 

“We could see his bone like…” Oliver gestures to his shoulder, “And his ribs were all fucked.”

“They can fix bones,” Ryan soothes, “Your dad’s gonna get him the best doctors.” 

“Dad’s with him?” 

“I don’t know.” Ryan admits, “I think he’s just trying to find the doctor to-” 

Ryan stops talking when he hears the wheels of a gurney squeak. The doors open and Talan’s bed is wheeled out. Michael walks behind the gurney, deep in conversation with a doctor. One of his hands is resting beside Talan’s head, his thumb stroking across his cheek. 

Oliver stands up before Ryan does and rushes over to walk alongside Talan. He finds his brother’s hand and holds it. 

Ryan doesn’t pay attention to the conversation. He focuses on Talan and his heart sinks when he realizes that Talan isn’t awake or breathing on his own. There are countless staples down his chest and across his hip. His upper body is bare, his injured arm braced across his chest and his broken collarbone is bandaged so heavily that Ryan can’t tell if it’s been fixed or just covered up. The chest tube is still firmly in place and Ryan cringes. Talan has red marks from the defibrillator on his skin. Ryan wants to cover him up and keep him warm. 

They wheel Talan to a curtained off space and hang all his IV’s back on hooks and a heart monitor starts loudly beeping along with Talan’s pulse. 

Ryan feels Michael’s hand cup the back of his neck but he can’t bring himself to look at him. He focuses entirely on Talan, smoothing the back of his fingers across Talan’s face trying to hold back from crying in front of Oliver. 

“They did everything they could.” Michael relays the information he’d just found out, “We need to get him home fast.” 

He doesn’t share the other half of the sentence. That Talan is stable for now but had crashed again shortly after getting to the hospital. 

“When’s that plane coming?” Ryan asks and his voice is choked, “If he needs to get there it should be here now.”

“I’m waiting for them to call we have to go talk to the doctor, we’ll conference Bruce in-” 

“Is your phone open?” Ryan asks harshly, “Keep it out.” 

“Ry.” Michael says hurt, “I’m taking care of-” 

“Hey we love you.” Ryan tells Talan, ignoring Michael “Keep being tough. We’re here. We love you.” 

“Ry.” Michael pleads because this might be the most heartbreaking moment of his life, “He’s out.” 

“Yo it’s still important.” Ryan stresses, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “He’s gotta know.” 

Michael takes a step closer to Ryan and rests his chin against his husband shoulder. He snakes an arm around Ryan’s waist and holds him. 

“He looks cold.” Ryan says quietly, “He needs a blanket.” 

“He doesn’t feel it Ry.” Michael talks low so Oliver can’t overhear, “He’s not hurting or-” 

“He’s cold.” Ryan snaps, “He needs a blanket.” 

“I’m cold.” Oliver calls out from the other side of Talan’s bed, “I’m-” 

“We’ll get blankets.” Michael pacifies, “Ry we have to go talk to the doctor so he’s ready to leave when the transport comes. It’s-” 

“I’m not leaving Tal.” Ryan decides, “The doctor can come here.”

“No Ry.” Michael says still quiet. 

Michael doesn’t want Oliver to hear what the doctor might say. Michael wants Oliver to get to Miami thinking that all Talan has are broken bones. As much as he’s worried about Talan, he’s also worried about Oliver.

“Not in front of Ols.” Michael whispers, “You gotta think of him too.”

“I’m not-” Ryan starts to argue.

“I need you to.” Michael cuts him off, “I can’t listen to this alone I need you to-” 

Michael stops himself before he says something he won’t be able to take back. The thought that he’s the only one in a state of mind to make adult decisions makes him irrationally angry. He’s keeping it together for Oliver and Ryan can’t seem to consider Oliver’s feelings. 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan agrees, “He needs to go home.” 

“Yeah he does.” Michael urges. 

“I’ll stay.” Oliver offers, “I got him. I know like…”

“Stay with your brother okay?” Michael leaves Ryan to walk around the bed towards Oliver. He squeezes Oliver’s shoulder before kissing the side of his head. “We’ll fill you in on everything they tell us. I just don’t want Tal to be alone.” 

“Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s okay for now.” Michael answers, “They gave him a lot of pain medication and they’re keeping him under. Just sit with him and we’ll be with you guys in ten minutes.” 

“Ok.” Oliver nods gravely, tightening his grip on Talan’s hand. He’s glad to have a job. Something concrete to do to help. 

“You’re shaking Bud.” Michael says concerned, reluctant now to leave Oliver alone. “I’ll get someone to bring you a blanket.” 

“I know, I can’t stop.” Oliver pulls away, “I’m okay, worry about Tal. I’m okay.” 

“Someone’s going to bring you a blanket.” Michael insists. “We’re right outside if you need me.” 

“I’m okay.” Oliver repeats, “Go.” 

Sitting with Talan makes Oliver feels calmer than he’s felt since the accident. He tries not to look at the needles going into Talan’s arm and as soon as a nurse brings blankets he puts both of them over Talan’s chest, hiding the staples and the bruises. He lets the blanket cover up the blood stains on the bed sheet.

He studies the heart monitor and the IV drips for a second before getting up to read the label on the blood transfusion bag. He leans his weight on Talan's bed and the mattress shifts.

He freezes and waits for Tal to wake up, to move or to show any sign that he’s aware of what’s going on. When nothing happens Oliver sits back down and takes Talan’s hand in both of his. He tries to keep it warm. 

“Dads are right outside.” Oliver tells him. “You’re doing good.”

Oliver waits another few minutes. The stitches on his arm are itchy and he pushes the gauze down to scratch around them. He’s exhausted and there’s enough room beside Talan’s chest to rest his head but Oliver won’t allow himself to sleep. Not while he’s responsible for Talan. 

“Dude can you hear me?” He tries, “Squeeze my hand if you can.” 

Oliver waits but nothing happens. He squeezes Talan’s hand a few times but Talan stays still and cold. All his breaths sound shallow. 

Ryan and Michael are gone longer than ten minutes. Oliver sits through nurses quietly walking in to check Talan’s vital signs and to adjust his IVs. He asks them questions in Spanish but only gets vague answers back. 

When the nurses won’t answer his questions. Oliver grabs the phone Ryan had left behind and starts searching. Another nurse brings him a new blanket and a cup of juice and lingers in the room for a bit. Soon afterwards another nurse comes to bandage his upper arm. She gives him a paper cup with pills in it but Oliver refuses to take them. Nurses stream in and out of the room, not really doing anything and after the fifth new nurse walks in Oliver realizes that they aren’t there to check on Talan but to see him. 

“They’re staring at me dude.” He whispers to Talan. 

Talan doesn’t acknowledge his words. Talan doesn’t acknowledge anything. Oliver realizes that Talan might not know where he is and might not know that he’s fighting to stay alive. The last thought is so frightening to Oliver that he presses his face against Talan’s blanket covered side. He cries and keeps his face hidden. 

“Dude they’re making you sleep.” Oliver cries to Tal, “But you gotta know you can’t quit. You just gotta get home and they’ll fix you up but you gotta….” Oliver trails off, finds Talan’s hand and squeezes it once more, “Come on.” 

Oliver can’t ever remember praying for anything. Not for medals or world records or cancelled practice on days when he’d felt sore. He doesn’t know if he should start praying now. He squeezes Talan’s hand but doesn’t look up. He falls asleep with his head resting on top of Talan’s new blankets. 

*

Talan needs surgery on his hips and he needs surgery on his collarbone. He has a collapsed lung and broken ribs and the way his blood pressure keeps dropping they’re afraid he might have more serious internal injuries. 

The doctor tells them Talan may not make the trip back to Miami and Michael squeezes Ryan’s arm so hard that days later his handprint will be bruised on his husband’s skin. 

The doctor walks out of the room, leaving them with copies of Talan’s x-rays and not much else. The situation starts to feel even more desperate. 

Ryan’s head is bowed and he doesn’t show any sign that he’s willing to accept the reality of the situation. 

“You have a tough kid.” Bruce’s disembodied voice says from the speaker of Michael’s cell phone, “And he’s gonna make it. We’ll fix him up. He’ll be good as new.” 

“What do you want to do Ry?” Michael manages to say. 

Deciding between transporting Talan to another hospital in Costa Rica and transporting Talan home is something Michael refuses to do on his own. No matter how distraught and in shock Ryan might be Michael needs him to speak up. 

“He’ll be better home.” Ryan’s voice is choked, “I want him home.” 

“He’s not in any pain.” Bruce comforts. 

Michael gets that he’s suppose to find comfort in that statement. He can imagine that Bruce has probably said this line to hundreds of families over the years. That knowing that whatever happens Talan isn’t hurting or in distress is suppose to calm him down and make things better. 

It doesn’t help.

“He was hurt before.” Ryan argues, eyes shut like he’s trying to block out the memory, “He was screaming.” 

“Stop Ry.” Michael requests because he can’t deal with it anymore, “We can’t.” 

“You weren’t there.” Ryan argues, “You don’t-” 

“Don’t take it out on each other.” Bruce warns, “Focus on what needs to be done. Who’s coming back with Talan?” 

“Oliver can’t come.” Michael covers his face with his hand. “I don’t want him to see- one of us has to stay behind with him.” 

“Talan needs to be in Miami.” Ryan agrees. 

“We can’t leave Oliver here alone.” Michael snaps. 

“I know.” Ryan replies hurt, “Don’t get mad.” 

There’s another helicopter coming to take Talan to the airfield where the medevac plane is an hour away from landing. 

“I go with Tal.” Michael decides, “You stay with Ols.” 

“No.” Ryan refuses, “I go with Tal.” 

“You can’t Ry.” Michael sighs, “You’re not good and I make decisions. I go with Tal and you and Ols are two hours behind on a jet.” 

“I can’t leave him.” Ryan pleads.

“I can’t leave Oliver okay?” Michael says just as desperate, “But it’s what works. I get to Miami and I fill out the paperwork and make decisions and call my family and make sure someone’s there to look after Ols when he gets here. I deal with your family and make sure it’s not out and it’s how it’s gotta happen.”

“No.” Ryan shakes his head. “I go with-” 

Michael groans in frustration, every conversation they’ve had seems tedious and overdrawn. He’s running out of patience. He wants decisions to be made faster. He needs Ryan to snap out of it and transform back into an adult capable of making rational decisions.

“I’ll take care of him.” Michael reassures, gathering every last ounce of patience he has left. “I’m not gonna let him-” 

“You gotta talk to him.” Ryan presses, “Tell him we love him and that he’s not allowed to quit.” 

“I will dude come on.” Michael drops his head to rest against Ryan’s, “He’s my kid too.” 

“He’s gotta go.” Ryan sniffs, sits up and rubs tears away from his face, “I want to see him.” 

“He’s a strong kid.” Bruce reminds them again, “He’s going to get here fine and we’ll be waiting for him.” 

“Thanks.” Ryan gets up.

“Caleb will pick you and Oliver up at the airport.” Bruce promises Ryan, “I’ll make sure he’s there. Don’t worry about getting to the hospital.” 

Michael watches as Ryan allows Bruce to comfort him and feels hurt that he hadn’t been able to do it himself. That Ryan had taken zero security from his presence or from his decisions. 

“Ry.” Michael gently cuts in, “We gotta go find Ols.” 

*

When they walk back into Talan’s room they find Oliver still asleep. For a second, without factoring in the reality of the situation, the scene in the room is almost peaceful. 

Michael hates having to wake Oliver up and bring him back to reality.

“Bud.” Michael strokes his hand through Oliver’s hair, “Wake up.” 

Oliver jumps. 

“I didn’t wanna sleep.” Oliver says alarmed, “Sorry I-” 

“No it’s okay.” Michael keeps brushing his hand through Oliver’s head, “Thanks for staying with Tal.” 

“He got more pain meds um morphine” Oliver yawns and stretches, “2mgs which is the same thing that he has in his IV, I checked... The internet site said they should give him 2 more in a few hours, I put a timer.” 

“You did good Gator.” Michael comforts, “They got it though. You don't have to worry about his medication.” 

Michael spots the paper cup filled with pills and holds it out to Oliver.

“Are these for you?” 

“I don’t know.” Oliver shrugs, “I don’t know what it is I don’t wanna take it.” 

“Tal knows you got him.” Ryan adds onto Michael’s reassurances, trying hard to pay attention to Oliver too. “Let him sleep okay?”

“What did they say about him?” Oliver sits up but doesn’t let go of Talan’s hand. “He’s having a tough time breathing you can hear it. Is the blood safe? Did you ask?”

Ryan reaches over and carefully takes Talan's hand away from Oliver. He rests it on Talan's stomach and moves to sit on the armrest of Oliver’s chair. 

Michael sits on the side of Talan’s bed and takes his hand. Talan’s fingers are limp. 

“It’s like he’s sleeping.” Michael says calmly, “He's okay.” 

“I know his collarbone's broken and he has that tube in his side and um he was bleeding a ton so like...” He points to the IVs, “That one's blood and that one's morphine and like you gotta check if their blood is safe because if it isn't then we need to stop it... Like do you get how dangerous... He could die.” Oliver rubs his hands over his face. 

“Gator it's okay.” Ryan wipes tears off Oliver's face with his thumb.

“Oliver, it’s fine.” Michael says also. 

“It's not okay. Look how much blood is on me.” Oliver looks down at his board shorts, “It's not okay. We didn't know where you were. I thought he was dead. I got stitches.” 

“It’s okay to cry.” Ryan hugs Oliver, leaning his head down against his son’s, “It’s scary I know.” 

“He was stuck and I went under.” Oliver’s chin quivers, “I swallowed water. He’s not answering. I talk to him and he’s not answering.” 

“You did so good.” Ryan calms. 

“Ok Bud.” Michael lets go of Talan's hand to walk over to Oliver. He rubs Oliver's back as Oliver cries against Ryan's chest. “Breathe deep.” 

“Tal has broken ribs.” Ryan says calmly. “His lung collapsed and that's why he has a chest tube. His collarbone is broken and that's gonna need surgery soon. They stitched up all his cuts. There’s nothing life threatening Ols.” Ryan lies. 

“He's gonna be okay.” Michael finishes.

“Surgery, like here?” Oliver lifts his head, “ He can’t have surgery here that’s like… You still haven’t answered about the blood because if it’s not safe he shouldn’t have it. He can't have surgery here.”

“We're going back home.” Michael keeps rubbing Oliver's back, “There's a plane coming with a doctor and a nurse and we're going to bring Tal back to Florida.” 

“When?” Oliver asks, “Like it should be right now.” 

“Soon.” Michael answers, “We’re waiting for the helicopter that’s going to take him to the plane.” 

“Your dad's gonna go with Talan and we're going to fly back after them.” Ryan adds. 

“No.” Oliver says firmly. 

“Yes.” Ryan answers, “Your dad’s going to go with Talan and I'm going to stay with you.” 

Oliver doesn’t look at either of them.

“All he has are cuts and broken bones Ols.” Michael tries again, “He’s going to be okay, we need to go home.”

“Why can’t I go with though?” Oliver sniffs, “Like why can't we all just-” 

“Because we need to take care of you too.” Michael says gently, “You took care of him in the water and you made sure he was okay now but I'm going to take him home and your dad's gonna take you.” 

“I want to stay.” Oliver says to Michael shakily. “I don’t want you to go.” 

“We know Ols and we’re not leaving right now… you can say bye.” 

Oliver thinks over their plans. He gets up and paces in front of Talan’s bed a few times. He stares at his feet and becomes absorbed in making sure that he doesn’t step on any of the tiled lines. He focuses on his footsteps until he looks up. 

“Baby’s gonna be okay?” Oliver asks quietly. 

“They’ll fix up his collarbone in Florida. He’ll be in the hospital for a few days and then he should be home.” Michael continues Ryan’s lies. He has no idea what the recovery period will be like to Talan.

“You’re lying.” Oliver complains. “I’m not dumb.”

“We won’t know until he gets to Miami.” Michael admits because Oliver deserves to know, “But he’s okay now. We’re not going anywhere right now.”

Oliver doesn’t go back to sleep. He sits back in the only chair in the room and keeps searching for information on Ryan’s phone. He looks up when Talan’s heart monitor beeps out of synch but once it goes back to normal his attention is fixated back to the screen. 

The helicopter takes longer than it should and Michael grows more and more impatient as each minute ticks by. He taps his foot against the floor, watches Ryan talk to Talan and tries hard not to listen to what Talan is saying. 

Finally, half an hour minutes later than expected, a team of paramedics comes down to find them. They switch Talan from his bed to a gurney, cover him with blankets and strap him down. 

Everything happens fast and three minutes later Michael is left to say bye to Oliver while Ryan spends a few last moments alone with Talan. 

“Don't go.” Oliver sobs out against Michael's shoulder, “I don't want you to go.”

“Bud I’m sorry.” Michael rubs Oliver’s back, “I have to go with Tal, Dad’s got you though you’re gonna be okay it’s-” 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head. “I want you.” 

Michael has never left Oliver alone when he was sick or hurt. He’d always flown home from trips or cancelled them. He’d always picked up Oliver from school and taken him home. He’d always stuck around at practice and stayed for physiotherapy appointments. Michael has always gone to every single doctor’s appointment. He’s always stood right next to Oliver to make sure everything is okay. 

“I’ll call you when we get there okay?” Michael pulls away from Oliver and wipes his tears away with his thumbs, "They'll take good care of Talan, I'll make sure of it. You watch out for Dad?"

Oliver nods, hugs Michael tighter and Michael can’t stop his eyes from filling with tears too. He can't pretend to be strong anymore not while Oliver is this upset. 

“I love you yeah?” Michael gives Oliver a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you tonight. Wait for dad here” 

It’s painful to leave Oliver alone but Michael forces himself to walk away. 

All he has with him are his and Talan’s passport as well as his cellphone and an envelope containing Talan’s x-rays. 

“Ry.” Michael runs his hand up Ryan’s back, “We gotta go.” 

Ryan nods but doesn’t look away from Talan. He keeps brushing his fingers across the back of Talan’s knuckles. 

“Ry. Come on.” Michael tugs at his shoulder, “You gotta take care of Ols.” 

“You gotta take care of him.” Ryan says quietly, “Talk to him the whole time okay? Say we love him. Say he’s okay… I don’t want him scared.” 

“You gotta go back to the resort and don’t pack just get what’s important. Get Ols to eat and you gotta eat too. Make sure he’s good get him to sleep. You can give him some of Tal’s Ativan… Bruce said it was okay.” Michael babbles his requests a mile a minute, “Look after him okay? You can lose it when we get to Miami and he’s with Hilary but you gotta keep it together for him.” 

“I got him.” Ryan promises. 

“I won’t let him quit.” Michael says, “I’ll call you when we get there.” 

“We’ll be on a plane.” Ryan kisses Talan’s fingers before kissing his face and standing up, “Leave a message.” 

“It’ll be okay.” The goodbyes are exhausting and Michael just wants them over with. Wants Talan to be on his way to Miami. “We gotta go.” 

*  
It’s a quiet ride back to the resort. Ryan’s phone battery is depleted almost right away and without a distraction, Oliver is soon overwhelmed. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes when he starts to cry, “I can’t stop I’m sorry.” 

“No Gator.” Ryan undoes his seatbelt and slides to the middle seat to be closer to Oliver. “You can cry.” 

“It’s not helping.” Oliver argues, “I can’t stop. I don’t know.” 

“We’re gonna be back soon.” Ryan soothes, “You can shower and change and we’ll go wait for the plane yeah? Maybe get you some food.” 

“I’m not hungry.” Oliver states, “I just want to go.” 

Oliver clenches and unclenches his fists and Ryan can see him grind his teeth. 

“Keep talking to me Gator.” Ryan asks, “What colour are your shoes?” 

“I’m wearing flip flops.” Oliver answers in a tone that implies Ryan has just asked the stupidest question recorded in living memory, “They’re green.” 

“Yeah?” Ryan thinks back to other techniques he’d learned while reading books to help Talan deal with his panic attacks, “What else in the van is green?” 

“I don’t know?” Oliver says agitated, “Why are you-” 

“Just answer.” Ryan dismisses Oliver’s distrust, “What else is green?” 

“Nothing.” Oliver grumbles, “The turtle thing on the dash.” 

“What else?” Ryan prompts. 

“Your sunglasses.” Oliver keeps answering, “My book cover.” 

“What book is it?” Ryan inquires.

“The space one from before.” Oliver informs, “You wanted to read it.” 

Ryan’s exhausted and worn out. He has a headache and he still has dried blood all over him. He can tell that Oliver is worst off though. 

“Want me to read to you?” Ryan offers, “You just gotta listen.” 

Oliver nods and before Ryan has the book open to the first page. Oliver moves to rest his head against Ryan’s shoulder, pulling up the hospital blanket to cover himself up. 

“There you go.” Ryan soothes, moving his arm so that it’s around his son, “From the start?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Wearing perfectly pressed trousers and shiny boots.” Ryan starts, “Captain Maddox of Star Watch Intelligence flexed his bare chest. Muscles like strings of-” He stops reading, “Dude. Is it that kind of book?” 

“What kind of book?” Oliver asks, displeased by story time being cut short, “It’s about space.” 

Ryan flips to the back cover for a second and quickly reads the description before flipping it back open and flicking through a few pages. 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan agrees, appeased that he’s not reading porn to his eldest child, “Sorry I-” 

“What d’you think it was?” Oliver asks insulted, “That’s just the first page it’s not-” 

“I got it.” Ryan shushes Oliver, “Listen or I won’t show you the pictures.” 

“There aren’t any pictures.” Oliver mumbles. 

“Muscles like strings of steel writhed upon his lean frame. He gripped a viper stick, swishing it back and forth, so the spectators murmured uneasee” 

“Uneasily.” Oliver corrects. 

“You wanna read?” Ryan offers. He suddenly remembers how angry five-year-old Oliver used to get when words were skipped or read wrong. The greatest injustice of Oliver’s young life had been that Ryan had found it funny to mispronounce words. 

Oliver shakes his head. 

“A mansion-” 

“D’you think they’re on the plane?” Oliver interrupts. 

“I don’t know Gator.” Ryan answers honestly. He folds down the corner of the page and closes the book, “They probably are. It was waiting for them.” 

“It’s a doctor on the plane?” 

“Yes.” Ryan answers, “With a nurse.” 

“I know how hurt he is.” Oliver whispers, “I read his file.” 

Ryan sighs and puts the book down. He fixes Oliver’s blanket and rests his chin on Oliver’s head. 

“He’s with dad.” Ryan offers, “And a doctor and he’s hurt but he’s gonna be okay.” 

“How d’you know?” Oliver reproaches, “You don’t.” 

“I know Tal.” Ryan tries not to let his voice falter, “And I know he don’t quit.” 

Oliver is quiet. He lets Ryan hold him. 

“Want me to keep reading?” Ryan suggests. 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head, “I’m tired.” 

Oliver doesn’t sleep though. He lies across the seat of the van and rests his head on Ryan’s lap. Tears keep running down his face and he tries to hide under the pale blue hospital blanket. 

“Gator.” Ryan worries, “It’s okay.” 

Ignoring Oliver’s choice, Ryan picks the book back up and starts to read again. He gets through most of the first chapter before Oliver’s eyes start to close. For the last hour of the ride back to the resort Oliver is fast asleep. 

*

Half an hour into the trip to Miami it becomes clear to Michael that Talan is more injured than the hospital in Costa Rica had let on. 

Talan’s blood pressure drops and his oxygen levels drop too. His heart rate is erratic and the doctor’s mouth is a tight line. 

More than once, Michael is forced to stand away from Talan. He can finally understand what it had been like for Ryan in the ambulance. Seeing it first hand allows him to start forgiving Ryan’s behaviour. 

Once he’s allowed to step back closer to his son, Michael grabs his hand and starts talking again. 

“We got your birthday coming up.” Michael blabbers on because he has no idea what to say, holding one sided conversations in front of strangers has never been one of his strong point, “We’re gonna get everyone together and have thanksgiving and grandma’s gonna come up with grandpa. We gotta find you a car but a new one not the old junkers you keep finding on the Internet.” 

Talan’s skin is almost grey and it’s sickening to see. His eyes are taped shut and Michael’s glad Ryan isn’t there to see it. 

“We can get you a pick up so you can bring stuff to the beach… Jack up the tires and maybe put more speakers in. You can drive yourself to practice… You can play Varsity this year and all the coaches are gonna come see you play. I’m gonna be home all the time, it’s just gonna be you, me an’ dad while Oliver’s at college. We’ll go see him all the time. We’re gonna have to check what we can do around Harvard. Maybe go to New York… No, you don’t like New York.” 

Michael talks so he doesn’t have to think. So his mind doesn’t remind him that the lanky, hurt and unconscious teenager who might be dying in front of him is the baby he’d proudly carried out of the maternity ward operating room to introduce to Ryan. Michael is acutely aware that the kid in front of him is Ryan’s entire life. 

“We love you babe.” Michael repeats for what must be the hundredth time, “You’re so important. We need you to be tough and after we’ll make sure it’s okay and you’re not hurting but you gotta keep fighting yeah? Don’t quit ‘till you’re at the wall-”

He stops because it’s dumb to talk about swimming when Talan doesn’t swim at all. 

“We’ll get ice cream cake for your birthday. The one with Oreos.” He decides, “Maybe we can go to a football game and fly back.” 

There’s still sand in Talan’s hair and Michael carefully brushes it out. Talan’s blonde hair is stained from the blood and Michael wonders if one of his sisters knows how to get it out. He figures that maybe Kristen or Ryan’s mom will know the solution. That they’ve definitely both had to get blood out of blonde hair before. 

“Everyone’s on their way to see you.” Michael keeps whispering, “Everyone wants you to be okay. Uncle Bruce is gonna be with you when they’re fixing all the things that hurt. Dad an me aren’t gonna go anywhere. You’re gonna be okay.”

Time has never moved more slowly. 

*

Walking into the untouched cabana is tough. Everything is the same as they’d left it that morning. Talan’s things are still strewn everywhere waiting for him to come back and pick them up. Oliver takes one look at their shared bedroom and refuses to walk in. 

“We still have an hour and a half.” Ryan tells Oliver, “Wanna go shower?” 

“Not in there.” Oliver refuses. 

“Use ours.” Ryan suggests, “Come on, I gotta get my stuff together anyways.” 

Ryan ventures into the boys’ bedroom because Oliver won’t. He grabs Oliver’s shaving kit from the bathroom and hands it to Oliver on their way out to the master bedroom. 

The sun is just setting and the air is still warm. People are still on the beach and it feels wrong and foreign. Ryan opens the door for Oliver and closes it behind them. 

“I’ll be out here.” Ryan promises, “Go shower.” 

Even after Oliver is behind the closed bathroom door, Ryan doesn’t allow himself to break down. He focuses on what he has to do, which is to gather their most important belongings. He takes Michael’s carry-on and shoves some clean clothes in it before moving and collecting his own things. 

Ryan doesn’t know what will happen to the rest of their stuff but he can’t bring himself to care. He grabs a clean pair of shorts for himself and changes. He takes his stained board shorts and throws them in the trashcan. He changes his shirt and makes sure he has both his and Oliver’s passport. 

He waits for Oliver to come out, but half an hour later the door to the bathroom is still closed and the shower still running.

“Ols?” Ryan knocks on the bathroom door, “Dude you’ve been in there forever are you okay?” 

He waits for an answer but doesn’t get one. The shower is still running and from the past few days Ryan knows the hot water in their cabana never lasts for longer than twenty minutes. Oliver doesn’t answer and Ryan knocks again. 

“Just say you’re still in the shower.” Ryan waits. “Just tell me you’re okay.”

He waits some more but doesn’t hear anything.

“I’m coming in okay?” Ryan declares unsure, “Make sure you’re decent.”

The door isn’t locked and there’s no steam in the bathroom. Ryan can hear Oliver crying over the water and the fan. 

Oliver is sitting on the floor of the shower still wearing his board shorts. The gauze on his arm is soaked through and the water has only made streaks through the dried blood on his chest. 

“Too much blood.” Oliver manages to say and he points to the red stained water still running down the drain. 

“Gator.” Ryan turns the water off and notices that Oliver never bothered to turn on the hot water. He’s shivering even more violently than before. Ryan wraps a towel around Oliver’s shoulder and rubs his back. He sits on the floor beside the shower and waits for Oliver to calm down.

“I’m cold.” Oliver says finally. He pulls the towel tighter against himself and leans into Ryan. 

“You need to wash the blood off.” Ryan prompts quietly. Oliver’s hair is soaking through his shirt, “Use hot water this time, it’ll warm you up.” 

Ryan switches the water flow from the shower to the tap and turns it back on. He checks the temperature to make sure the water is warm. 

“It’s hot Gator, wash off.” Ryan switches the flow back but the water showers uselessly down on Oliver who doesn’t stand up or take the towel off his shoulders. 

“This is kind of your part, I haven’t given you a bath in like fifteen years.” Ryan tries to joke but when Oliver doesn’t even seem to register he’s talking Ryan gets even more worried. 

“Ols, you have to stand up come on.” Ryan stands up and pulls on Oliver’s arm.

“I’m cold.” Oliver repeats, “I can’t.” 

For the first time Ryan notices the tears running down Oliver’s face. He reaches for the shampoo. 

“Watch your eyes.” Ryan warns him before soaping up Oliver’s hair. 

Oliver doesn’t move or talk while Ryan finishes washing his hair. Ryan carefully avoids getting Oliver’s stitches wet propping Oliver’s arm up against his own knee. 

“I’m sorry.” Oliver breathes out while Ryan rinses the shampoo out of his hair. 

“It’s ok Gator, it’s been a rough day.” Ryan dismisses. He reaches for the body wash and a washcloth. He hands it to Oliver first but Oliver doesn’t even acknowledge his offering. Ryan squeezes suds on his son’s chest and starts scrubbing away at the dried blood. 

“Don’t look if it makes you freak out.” Ryan warns as the washcloth quickly stains red.

Oliver isn’t really staring at anything. His gaze is blank and focused on empty space. 

“Come on Gator, talk to me.” Ryan urges.

“I’m sorry.” Oliver repeats.

“No you did everything you needed to do. You helped out your brother, you went to get your dad and you helped Tal before he left.” Ryan reassures. 

All the dried blood has been washed off Oliver’s chest and the sand is gone from his hair. Ryan takes the washcloth and carefully cleans around the gauze on Oliver’s arm. 

“You’re clean.” Ryan tells him, “You’re gonna have to stand up Gator. Dry off and I’ll go get you clothes to change into. Then I’ll fix the tape over your stitches.”

“What?” Oliver blinks at him confused.

“Towel. I’ll bring you clothes.” Ryan repeats. He hands Oliver another towel and waits for him to stand up. “What d’you want to wear on the plane?” 

Oliver shrugs but he pulls himself up and reaches for the towel. He dries his hair first and droplets of water spray everywhere in the bathroom. 

“I’ll be right back.” Ryan warns, “Sit if you feel dizzy.” 

A housekeeper had emptied both of the boys’ suitcases into the drawers of the bedroom and so Ryan has a hard time telling the difference between the clothes that belong to Oliver and the ones that belong to Talan. He digs through one drawer until he comes up with a Harvard t-shirt and some sweat pants that he’s sure are Oliver’s. He digs further and finds a pair of black underwear; he hasn’t picked o ut Oliver’s clothes since Oliver’s first day of kindergarten. He picks a random hoodie off the ground and heads back into the master suite bathroom. 

Oliver hasn’t moved but he’s mostly dry. 

“Throw your boardshorts out.” Ryan tells Oliver as he hands him the clothes, “call me back when you’re-“

“I can’t lift my arm.” Oliver says, “You gotta help me.” 

“Change your pants.” Ryan turns around to face the wall, “Then I’ll help.” 

Ryan waits until Oliver calls out for him before turning around. 

“I’ll fix your arm before helping you with your shirt. Jump up.” Ryan pats the bathroom counter and Oliver sits down on it. 

“Did they give you pills?” Ryan asks wrapping dry gauze over the top of Oliver’s arm. 

“I don’t know.” Oliver shrugs, “I don’t really remember.” 

“Whatever you have for strep throat will stop it from getting infected.” Ryan rationalizes, “You gonna try to sleep before we leave?” 

“I don’t want to sleep.” Oliver answers.

“Tell me what you want to bring home with you and I’ll go get it.” Ryan offers, “So you don’t have to go back.” 

Ryan reaches for the t-shirt and pulls the collar over Oliver’s head. Oliver puts his uninjured arm through the first sleeve and Ryan helps him guide his hurt arm through the other. 

“No.” Oliver disagrees, “I’ll go.” 

“I’ll come with you.” Ryan decides, “I got dad an me set to go.” 

Oliver starts off by gathering Talan’s things. Ryan watches him walk through the bedroom carefully pick up Talan’s backpack, his sketch book, his phone and the copy of The Hobbit Talan has been reading for the past nine months. 

“That’s nice Ols.” Ryan placates, “He’ll like having those things.” 

“He’s gonna needs glasses.” Oliver worries, “He lost his.”

“He didn’t bring another pair.” Ryan explains, “We’ll get him one once we’re home.” 

“How’s he gonna see though?” Oliver asks, “He won’t see-” 

“He’s good for right now.” Ryan explains, “What do you want to bring?” 

Getting Oliver to do anything takes an enormous amount of effort. Ryan finds Oliver’s antibiotics and Oliver’s phone and his wallet. He packs some extra clothes for him and tries to get him to eat something for dinner. 

Oliver wanders aimlessly from room to room. He finally settles down on the couch in front of the television but doesn’t turn it on. He continues to stare in space. 

With half an hour left before the car comes for them, Ryan sits beside his son and stares at the empty space with him. Ryan tries to add up the time Michael had left with the flight time to Miami and realizes that there is no way Talan and Michael will arrive before Oliver and him are flying back home. 

Ryan isn’t sure that Oliver is doing all right and he doesn’t know what to do to help him. He wraps his arms around him and lets Oliver lean again his chest. 

“I got you Gator.” Ryan reassures.

“I want Dad.” Oliver chokes out. 

“I know dude.” Ryan agrees, “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) The excerpt of the book Ryan is reading are taken from "The Lost Starship" by Vaughn Heppner.... Or you know the first book that popped up on my amazon search. 
> 
> 2) We're all just going to pretend all the medical information in this story makes sense okay? Thanks.


	9. Chapter 9

“We are commencing our final descent.” 

The pilot’s voice echoes through the plane and jolts Michael back to reality. 

“Hey.” Michael readjusts his grip on Talan’s hand, “You made it babe, we’re almost there.” 

Michael smoothes Talan’s hair back for what feels like the millionth time. He watches the steady heartbeat on the monitor and squeezes his son’s hand. It’s an immense relief to know that Talan has made the trip to Miami and is about to go into surgery. 

“Sir.” The nurse fiddles with the wires draped over Talan’s shoulder, “You need to be sitting in your seat with your seatbelt fastened, you can’t stay beside him.” 

She points to a seat a few feet away from Talan’s stretcher. The seat seems ridiculously far away and Michael is reluctant to let go of Talan’s hand and leave him alone. 

“You have to be sitting when we land.” The nurse asserts, “So do we.” 

“And Talan?” Michael asks. 

“He’s safe.” The doctor informs Michael, “We land and he’s transferred to an ambulance. You go with him. For now, you need to sit.”

Michael considers the distance between the seat and Talan again. The last thing he wants to do is leave Talan alone. 

“Sir, it’s not a choice.” The doctor persists, “We need to get him ready for transfer and you need to sit.” 

“Ok.” Michael answers, “I just have to say where I’m going.” 

“We’re just landing.” Michael tells Talan quietly. Ordinarily he would feel ridiculous but right now he can’t begin to care. “I have to go sit over there but I can see you. You’re doing good. I love you.”

Michael has stopped expecting a reaction from Talan. He gently rests Talan’s hand down and heads to the designated seat that feels so far away. 

“We have clearance to land.” The pilot announces. 

Michael glances out the window and tries to spot the runway. They’ve flown in and out of Miami countless of times over the years. He watches the water give way to the city and glances back at Talan. 

The list of things that still need to be done is long. Michael doesn’t know which of their family members have started making their way to Miami. They don’t have a place to stay and he has no way of contacting Ryan until both their flights have landed. 

His thoughts are jumbled and there are a hundred things that need to be done. Michael can’t force himself to look away from Talan long enough to concentrate on any of them. 

The day feels like it’s dragged on forever. Breakfast and golf are forever away and it’s difficult to understand that this is their new reality. Michael has a hard time accepting that Talan, who’d been joking around and drinking coffee at breakfast, is now fighting for his life. 

Michael looks out of the window again, they’re closer to the ground and he can make out the tiny individual streets dividing the taller buildings into city blocks. He checks to make sure he has both of their passports and the manila envelope filled with x-rays. 

He doesn’t have Talan’s glasses and he instinctually looks back to see if Talan is wearing them. 

Talan’s heart monitor starts beeping furiously just as Michael is turning back towards the window. 

“No way.” The doctor says. He leaves his seat to go stand next to Talan. “You’re not doing this again.” 

Michael can’t bring himself to undo his seatbelt and stand up too. The nurse and the doctor block his view of Talan. Michael watches the nurse pick up a syringe and inject something into Talan.

“Come on Buddy.” The doctor encourages, “You’re almost there.” 

Michael drops his head and laces his fingers behind his neck. He can’t watch anymore. He tries to think of anything other than the beeping of the heart monitor. 

“No.” The doctor says firmly, “Talan. Come on.” 

“We can’t give him-” 

Michael thinks of Ryan and Oliver who have probably just boarded their own flight to Miami. He thinks of the look on Ryan’s face when the doctor in Costa Rica had warned them Talan might not make the flight back to the United States. Michael imagines telling Ryan Talan has died. It suddenly hurts to breathe. His chest feels hollow. 

“There you go.” The doctor says, “We got you. Calm down. Good boy.” 

The heart monitor beeps back to normal and Michael raises his head to catch the doctor’s eyes.

“He’s fighting hard.” The doctor notes, “He’s not ready to go.” 

“Can I touch him?” Michael asks. He’s not currently fulfilling his promise to Ryan, there’s no way Ryan would have gotten back into his seat. “I have to keep talking to him.”

“We’re landing.” The doctor answers, “We all have to get into our-” 

“What happens if I don’t?” Michael inquires, “He needs-”

“He needs to get into surgery. He’s five feet away.” The doctor motions between the bed and Michael, “He can hear you fine. ” 

Michael is unsure Talan can hear him. However, it’s obvious that Talan is fighting to stay with them. 

Because he’d promised Ryan to keep talking and because imagining life without Talan is physically painful, Michael grits his teeth, nervously taps his foot against the floor and starts to speak. 

“Talan.” He calls out. “It’s okay. We’re almost there. Dad and Oliver are on their way.” 

On the morning they’d left for Costa Rica Talan’s slew of never ending six am questions had been annoying. Michael and Ryan had run out of patience with him. They’d sent him out to get breakfast and had focused on Oliver instead. The day before, they had sent Talan skateboarding by himself in Central Park. Even while they’d been shopping for shoes, Michael had been busy answering emails on his phone. 

Michael misses the nonsense and his chatter. He’s never spent two hours in total silence with Talan. He’s never wanted to hear one of Talan’s questions more. 

“You’re gonna feel better.” Michael assures him, “Dad and Oliver are gonna be here when you wake up. Grandma and Grandpa too.”

The plane lands with a bump and Michael irrationally expects Talan to wake up, stretch, ask a dozen annoying questions about where they are and demand to use the nearest bathroom.

Talan doesn’t talk. People busy themselves around him; they grab IV bags and push his gurney towards the front of the plane. 

Michael walks behind them holding onto the x-ray envelope and their passports. He can’t bring himself to find the doctor and the nurse to thank them. 

*  
Michael and Ryan had spent their very first night as fathers scared that Oliver wouldn’t make it. They had sat in the NICU terrified that the tiny baby in the incubator would stop breathing and die before they got a chance to bring him home to the nursery they’d painted together. 

Over the years both Oliver and Talan have had their fair share of injuries and sickness but there had never been another night when Michael and Ryan had sat and waited, afraid that one of their kids would die. 

Talan’s ambulance rides to the hospital with all the sirens blaring. Michael sits close to Talan’s side and reaches for his hand. 

Holding his hand suddenly doesn’t seem like it’s enough. Michael’s aware that these are his last moments with Talan before they get to the hospital and he’s taken into surgery. The frenetic beeping of the heart monitor from earlier is still ringing in his ears. Talan is injured and there is nothing Michael can do to help him. He can’t go into surgery with him, he can’t ensure that everything goes well and he can’t be there to make sure that Talan feels safe. Michael understands why Ryan had been so reluctant to leave Talan with him. 

The blanket covering Talan had been pulled down towards his stomach in the plane and his chest is still bare. There are staples running across his skin and burn marks from the defibrillator. Michael can’t fix anything. 

“He’s not in pain right?” He asks the paramedics, “He’s not-” 

“No.” The female paramedic who’s by Talan’s head reassures, “He’s not in pain.” 

“How long can he be under before it’s bad?” Michael hears how clumsy his question sounds, “ If he’s having surgery it’s going to be awhile-” 

“His surgeon will tell you.” The paramedic assures, “His name’s Talan?” 

“Yes.” Michael answers, “He’s fifteen.” 

“His vitals are good.” She says after checking Talan’s monitor, “We’re close to the hospital.” 

“He plays basketball.” Michael keeps talking. “He likes to draw. His sketching table is in my office so we can spend time together… He gets really anxious so it calms him down.” 

Once Michael’s started talking he can’t seem to stop. He wants people to know that Talan isn’t just a faceless injured teenager. He needs people to understand that Talan is important and loved. He needs them to realize that in no circumstances are they allowed to let his kid die. 

“He has a dog named Hoops.” Michael laces his fingers through Talan’s, brushing against the plastic clip and squeezing his hand. “And a turtle.”

“My son has guinea pigs.” The paramedic tells him.

“He’s our baby.” Michael answers. “He looks like his dad.”

“We’re five minutes out.” The paramedic says her voice calm. “They’ll take him from there. ”

Michael knows they’re running red lights and speeding through traffic. He doesn’t acknowledge the paramedic’s support. He squeezes Talan’s hand again and bows his head over the gurney. 

“We love you.” He says, “You’re not gonna hurt.” 

*

At the hospital, the doors of the ambulance are wrenched open and Talan is wheeled out and taken away in a frenzy of activity and doctors. 

Michael is left standing outside alone. 

“Best trauma team.” Bruce says, “They got him.” 

Bruce walks over to Michael and hugs him briefly. He pulls away but keeps his hand on Michael’s shoulder. 

“Let’s go inside.” Bruce suggests, “Come on.” 

Michael stays frozen in place. Bruce grabs his arm and walks him into the hospital. 

They walk through cheerfully decorated corridors and doors that require key code access. After three left turns and an elevator ride Michael is disoriented.

“Are we going to see Tal?” Michael asks, “Where did he go?” 

“No.” Bruce doesn’t let go of Michael’s arm. He leads him into a waiting room and closes the door behind them, “We’re going to wait here.” 

Without Talan to focus on, Michael feels like he’s walking around in a fog. 

“Where is he?” Michael asks, not sitting down when Bruce does. 

“Pre-Op. MRI.” Bruce gets up to stand again. “Then to the OR, someone’s going to come and-” 

“Can I see him?” 

“He’s in good hands.” Bruce answers instead of saying no, “Sit down Mike come on. Did you eat?” 

The question sounds so stupid that Michael looks up at Bruce for the first time. Breakfast in Costa Rica feels far away. Michael thinks of the look on Talan’s face when he’d handed him his coffee cup and their postponed golf game. 

“Mike.” Bruce insists, “When’s the last time you ate?” 

“We had breakfast together he was fine.” Michael’s voice cracks, “We were suppose to go golfing but the waves were good so he went surfing with Ry.” 

“Breakfast? We’ll go get some food the cafeteria isn’t as-” 

“I should have made him come with me.” Michael answers, “He’d be-” 

“You wouldn’t have done that.” Bruce says, “It happened.” 

“I gotta check on Ryan’s flight.” Michael remembers, “I need a charger. Oliver had stitches if we can get someone to look at them once he gets here-” 

“Their flight is on time.” Bruce placates, Caleb is at the airport waiting. He’ll bring them right here. Do you need to call anyone else?” 

Michael tries to analyze the information being thrown at him. He stares at the wall of the waiting room and the worn out couches and the worn carpet. He’s instantly reminded of the room he’d sat in to wait for news about Ryan’s father. 

“I don’t want to be in a waiting room.” He says desperately. “I want to see Talan.” 

“They’re taking care of Tal.” Bruce says again, “You’ll see him after surgery. We’ll go wait in my office.”

“Pre-op.” Michael asks instead of following Bruce, “what are they doing there? I told Ry I wouldn’t stop talking to him. Can someone-” 

“Mike.” Bruce puts a hand on his shoulder, “They’re taking care of him. We have a neurosurgeon on standby. We have everyone ready for him, doctors cancelled other surgeries to be in that OR. There isn’t another patient in the country with the team he has right now. You asked for my help and I did it. They know who he is and tomorrow you’re going to be bringing him milkshakes.” 

Michael tries hard to focus on what Bruce is saying but he has a hard time stringing together the ideas. 

“Has he picked a car yet?” Bruce asks. 

“No.” Michael answers hesitantly, because it’s an easier subject to talk about. “He keeps finding old ones and we won’t-” 

“Nate wanted a BMW.” Bruce changes the subject to his youngest son, “Caleb said no but I caved in.” 

“Ry got Ols the Audi he wanted.” Michael relates, “Talan wants a pick up.” 

“Guess he’s not interested in the lighter duty ones.” Bruce laughs, “B had one before he left for college. Used the bed to make out with girls. We got him a two-seater when he got into Brown. Less room for-”

Michael has a hard time listening or caring about cars. His thoughts wander back to Talan who doesn’t know any one on best pediatric trauma team in Florida. People might be surrounding Talan but all of them are strangers. Talan is essentially alone. 

“You can be with him.” Michael changes the subject, finding a solution to the problem. “With Tal, you can be with him. You’re a surgeon. You can go make sure he’s okay.” 

“He’s family.” Bruce regretfully explains, his voice quieter than when they’d been talking about cars. “I can’t.”

Michael is out of solutions. He quietly accepts the idea that there’s nothing more he can do. There’s no one he can send in to be with Talan and there’s no way he can keep monitoring how his kid is doing every minute he’s out of his sight. 

“Best team?” Michael asks. 

“Cancelled other surgeries to work on him.” Bruce repeats, “He’ll be out in a few hours and waking up. Then you can be with him.” 

“We told Oliver he just had a broken collarbone.” Michael blinks back tears that are threatening to spill over, “But we know it’s like… They said he was bleeding into his stomach and his heart keeps going. They keep shocking it he has burns.” 

“We’re going to get updates.” Bruce says calmly. “There’s an intern who has that job he’s going to come see us as soon as Talan’s in surgery. We can go to my office. They’ll find us there.” 

Michael wants answers not reassurances but he’s tired and dazed. Instead, he lets Bruce guide him out of the room, down the hall and towards the elevator. He stares at the floor tiles and the different coloured lines going down the hallway. He doesn’t look up from the ground until Bruce opens a door and motions him inside the room.

“Here we go.” Bruce closes the door behind them and turns on the lights, “Sit Mike, I’ll get us a drink.” 

Michael chooses to sit in one of the two chairs in front of Bruce’s desk. While he’s spent years listening to stories about Bruce’s work and to Caleb complain that he was never home, Michael has never actually seen Bruce at work. 

Bruce’s office is filled with pictures of Nate and Bruce Jr. Propped up frames on bookshelves and on the windowsill show them as babies and as kids and as teenagers. There’s one of Bruce Jr on his first day at Brown and another of the whole family at what Michael assumes is Nate’s high school graduation. On his desk is the only picture of Caleb and right next to that frame is a photograph of both their families on vacation. Oliver is about six and Talan around four. Oliver sits in the sand by Caleb’s feet while Talan is in Michael’s arms, his hand touching Michael’s face. 

“You have to trust them Mike.” Bruce pulls out a bottle of scotch from his desk and pours him a shot in a paper cup. 

“I don’t trust anyone.” Michael informs him. He puts the frame back down. 

“This time you have to.” Bruce insists, pouring himself a shot as well. “I’ll go ask for an update as soon as someone else-” 

“I can be here alone.” Michael looks up, “I’m fine.”

“Of course.” Bruce nods, “Come on drink, Caleb would not approve of the paper cup but it’s-”

“Go ask.”

“They won’t know anything else.” Bruce pushes the paper cup towards Michael again, “Once they know they’ll come. Drink.” 

Michael feels deflated and out of options. He has no idea where Talan is or how he’s doing. He drinks the scotch down in one shot and doesn’t stop Bruce from refilling his glass. 

“Kids recover.” Bruce says after he sips his drink, “Better than adults.” 

“We can’t lose him.” Michael answers, “Ryan won’t-” 

Michael drinks his second drink slower. He feels the liquid burn down his throat and hopes that it numbs just a little bit of the pain he’s feeling. 

“You won’t lose him.” Bruce states, “You’ll see him in a few hours. Who else is coming?” 

“My sister.” Michael puts down his paper cup, “To be with Oliver. My mom’s gonna fly down later or now I guess… I don’t know I haven’t been talking to them just looking after Tal.” 

“We’ll wait for them here.” Bruce decides, “We can book hotel rooms. Caleb can bring clothes for Oliver…. Nate’s things should fit him.” 

“I don’t know if he’s okay.” Michael says, unrolling the edge of the cup with his thumb, “Oliver he was-” 

“He had a tough day.” Bruce rationalizes, “I’ll check his stitches and if he needs to talk to someone I can get someone to come here. No one has to know he’s in the hospital. We can get security.” 

Michael doesn’t understand why Oliver will need security. He starts to protest that Ryan and him aren’t famous enough anymore to warrant extra measures for the kids before he realizes that while Ryan and him aren’t really famous, Oliver is. 

“We watched him.” Bruce adds, “He did amazing. We’re so proud.”

Michael nods, not able to take credit or talk about Oliver accomplishments. 

“I’ll make sure Oliver is okay.” Bruce promises, “He can come stay with us. Caleb can take him. It’ll be better than a hotel.” 

Michael nods again. He’s incredibly grateful for everything but not able to formulate it into words. 

“Everyone is taken care of.” Bruce comforts, he reaches across the desk to grab hold of Michael’s forearm. “You’ve had a rough day too.”

“Yeah.” Michael agrees, “Ryan isn’t good at handling emergencies so I’ve been-” 

“Doing everything.” Bruce finishes, “I know.” 

“He couldn’t.” Michael talks on frustrated, “Help or make decisions or fill out paperwork without… Talan was hurt and he checked out.” 

“What he saw was horrific.” Bruce explains, “Trauma like that isn’t easy to cope with. I think you have to-” 

“I know.” Michael drops his head, “I just… We’re not good you know. We were going to get better and not it’s-” 

Michael screws up his face trying to get his emotions under control. Trying not to lose his composure in front of Bruce. He forces himself to swallow down the rest of the alcohol in his cup. 

“Mike.” Bruce squeezes his arm, “You’ll get through this.” 

“Not if.” Michael sniffs and wipes his tears on the sleeve of his shirt, “If Tal doesn’t make it Ryan won’t either.” 

Half his family is on the line. He doesn’t know where Talan is. He doesn’t know if Oliver is okay.

“I’ll call for news.” Bruce lets go of Michael’s arm and reaches for the phone on his desk. “We’ll get news.” 

*

Oliver always sits in the aisle seat because he likes the extra room to stretch his legs. When Ryan and him board the plane back to Miami Oliver chooses to sit next to the window. 

Oliver had been recognized by a group of teenagers while they waited to get through security. Countless camera phones had been shoved in his face and even with security it had been hard for Ryan to shield Oliver from the thirty plus kids trying to get pictures. 

“Hey.” Ryan reaches up to put their backpacks in the overhead compartment, “You’re in the wrong seat.” 

Ryan takes Oliver’s book and his phone out of his bag. 

Oliver pulls the hood of his hoodie up and keeps his sunglasses on. He tears the airline blanket out of its plastic bag and covers himself up. As soon as Ryan sits down, Oliver hides his face against his shoulder. 

“Do you want your book?” Ryan offers. “I can keep reading to you.”

Oliver doesn’t answer and Ryan realizes that Oliver hasn’t talked since they’d left the resort. 

“Ols come on.” Ryan nudges him, “Talk.” 

Oliver doesn’t talk. He doesn’t shake his head or nod. He doesn’t reach for the book or look up. He stays hidden against Ryan and curled up in his seat. 

“You’re okay.” Ryan reassures, “I got you.” 

When the flight attendant walks up and down the aisle offering earphones Oliver pulls the blanket further up over his face. 

“I have Ativan.” Ryan offers, “It’s okay for you to take. It’ll help.” 

Ryan barely feels Oliver shake his head. He looks down to observe the two visible inches of his son’s face and removes his sunglasses. 

Oliver’s eyes are red. Tears run down his cheek and disappear under the blanket. He closes his eyes and hides further against Ryan. 

“Hey.” Ryan says gently, “It’s okay to cry. You can cry.”

Oliver grabs his sunglasses out of Ryan’s hands and turns away to lean against the window. 

“Gator.” Ryan worries. “I’m here. Talk.”

Oliver doesn’t acknowledge him and after he stays quiet through take off and the first fifteen minutes of the flight Ryan assumes his son is sleeping. 

Ryan accepts a drink and the flight attendant brings him three small bottles of vodka instead of one. He feels exhausted and on edge and forgets his promises about alcohol. When two empty bottles have accumulated on his tray he gets a bit of relief. 

He saves the snacks the flight attendant hands out for Oliver and tries to wake him up twice. Oliver ignores Ryan the first time. The second time Oliver shifts away from the window to rest back against his shoulder. 

With Oliver sleeping against him Ryan has a hard time justifying the last bottle. He plays with it instead, flipping it over again and again against his tray table. He leans his head against Oliver’s and tries to sleep too. 

Even with the help of alcohol, Ryan is unable to sleep. He closes his eyes and sees Talan bleeding on the beach and Oliver crying in the shower. He hears Talan screaming and him pleading for help. He imagines Talan dead. 

He opens his eyes, sits up and drinks the third bottle. 

*

Oliver sleeps through most of the flight but Ryan stays awake. He can’t focus on any of the movies playing or on any of the magazines in the seat pocket in front of him. He tries to read a chapter from Oliver’s book but the words blur into one another. 

The four bags of airline pretzels sit untouched in front of him and he refuses to ask for another drink. 

“Please put up your tray table.” The flight attendant asks, “Have your son put up his seat. I can take those for you.” 

She points to the three empty bottles of vodka and Ryan jolts back to reality. 

“Yes.” He nods and hands over the evidence. “I’ll wake him up. Do they know we need security when we land. He needs security.” 

“If you stay back while the rest of the plane exits, we can call someone.” She answers, “His seat needs to be in its full upright position.” 

She walks away from them and Ryan closes his eyes. He knows Michael wouldn’t accept this. That Michael would insist they be the first ones off the plane with security already waiting. Michael would do everything to make sure Oliver didn’t have to wait. 

Ryan is tired. He’s worn out and he doesn’t have the strength to argue. He counts to five before he stands up.

“Sorry.” He calls out to talk to the flight attendant who’s now a few rows behind them, “We can’t wait.” 

“It’s what-” 

“My other son- his brother. Was medevac’d from Costa Rica. He’s in emergency surgery at the children’s hospital. We need to go fast. We have to be off the plane first-” 

“Have your son put his seat back up.” The flight attendant answers, “I’ll see what I can do.” 

Ryan sits and turns to face Oliver who’s still hididng under his hoodie and his blanket. He reaches out to rub his back. 

“We’re here Gator.” Ryan hates waking him up, “We’re landing. Wake up.” 

Oliver sits up but doesn’t take off the sunglasses or push down his hood. He stretches out his neck and Ryan reaches over to massage his shoulders. Oliver leans forward to give him more room and Ryan figures it’s a good sign. 

“I’ll call Dad when we land.” Ryan promises, “Do you want pretzels?” 

Oliver doesn’t acknowledge that Ryan is talking but he doesn’t push him away. 

“Oliver.” Ryan stops rubbing his shoulders, “I’m worried it’s- Are you-” 

Oliver shakes his head. 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan agrees. 

Ryan stops talking. He wraps an arm around Oliver and waits for the plane to land. 

*

Caleb is waiting for them right outside the arrival gates but unfortunately so are a dozen photographers. Flashes blind Ryan before he can spot where they’re coming from. He immediately steps in front of Oliver to protect him. 

“Look down.” Ryan orders harshly. “Stay behind me.” 

Ryan puts his hand beside Oliver’s face blocking it from the cameras incessant flashes. He holds up the backpack as an added barrier. 

“Ryan here.” Caleb says, “The car’s right outside.” 

They have no luggage to claim but the twenty feet walk out of the airport doors is slow. Ryan focuses on Oliver and not on the questions the photographers are asking. He keeps his hand in front of Oliver’s face and has to fight back the urge to punch a man who incessantly yells Oliver’s name. 

“Here we go.” Caleb holds the door of his SUV open and Ryan guides Oliver inside. 

Ryan shuts the door and scrambles to climb into the passenger seat. The windows of the car are tinted and Ryan feels relieved that Oliver is safe and hidden. 

“Do up your seatbelt Oliver.” Caleb asks once he’s sitting in the driver’s seat, “Please, you too Ry. Are you two okay? I have water bottles and granola. Apples?” 

Ryan shrugs and leans his head forward. 

“It’s a twenty minute drive it won’t be long. Do you guys need anything? I can bring Oliver home with me.” 

“He’s gonna come with us.” Ryan keeps looking through Caleb’s contacts for Michael’s new cell number. “Do you have news?” 

“He’s still in surgery.” Caleb says, “It’s all I know I couldn’t-” 

Caleb had been the one to come to Ryan’s rescue at breakfast on the cruise ship. He’d been the one to catch a runaway Talan and bring him back to Ryan. Over the past year Caleb’s listened to all of Ryan’s complaints about Michael and all his worries over Talan. 

Over the years, Caleb had silenced every doubt Ryan had ever had about parenting and his marriage. Caleb is not only his friend but also a kind of father figure. 

“You ain’t like lying right?” Ryan asks desperately suddenly forgetting for a second that he has to be strong for Oliver, “If he wasn’t good you’d tell me you won’t like-” 

“Ry.” 

They’ve only managed to drive away from the arrival gate but Caleb changes lanes to park on the shoulder of the road. He undoes his seatbelt and reaches for Ryan. 

“I’m not lying.” Caleb assures hugging Ryan hard, “Five minutes ago he was still in surgery and he was stable.” 

Ryan nods against Caleb’s shoulder and pulls away. He wipes his face and tries to feel a little more awake and a little less numb. 

“You can take Ols home after.” He asks, “He’s gonna need to be with people.” 

What Ryan wants to say is that he doesn’t want Oliver to go back to a hotel with Bob. That the things he’d said in Rotterdam still stand. That he doesn’t believe Bowman has the best intentions for Oliver. Ryan knows Michael’s plan is to leave Oliver with his family and Ryan doesn’t agree. 

“Don’t worry.” Caleb soothes, “He can stay with us, you can stay with us. Do you need anything?” 

“Make sure Oliver’s okay.” Ryan answers, “See Talan.” 

“Bruce will make sure Oliver is okay.” Caleb starts the car back up and merges back into traffic. “We saw you swim babe.” 

Caleb glances at Oliver through the rearview mirror. 

“He’s not talking.” Ryan answers for him, “It’s freaking me out.” 

“You’re gonna be okay too.” Caleb reaches back to pat Oliver’s knee, “Nat’s home tonight he has a new video game he can show you.” 

The car is cooler than the plane. Ryan opens up the water bottle next to him and drinks half of it in one gulp. He puts it back in the cup holder half empty and reaches to the back seat to open Oliver’s bottle. 

“Drink Gator.” Ryan hands him the water bottle, “Dude come on.” 

Oliver reaches for the water bottle and Ryan closes his hand over his for a second. He tries to see past the lenses of Oliver’s sunglasses to figure out if Oliver is doing better than he’d been on the plane. 

“We’re almost there.” Ryan reassures, “We’ll find something to make you feel better.” 

Oliver nods and takes a long drink from the bottle. 

“He’s okay.” Caleb promises to Ryan, “He’ll be better once he sees Talan and gets some sleep.” 

“He wanted Mike to stay with him.” Ryan admits, “Not me.” 

Caleb keeps driving. He waits a second before placing his hand back on Ryan’s shoulder but he keeps it there for the rest of the drive. 

“I told Bruce we were on our way.” Caleb says once they’re only a few streets away from the hospital, “Mike’s waiting for you.” 

*

Michael gets news every half hour and every half hour he thinks of how unfair it is that he knows all these things while Ryan is still in the dark. 

None of the news he’s getting are the kind of things he wants to deliver by text message or phone so he’s forced to wait. He writes everything down on the back of an envelope he’d found on Bruce’s desk.

“What’s the good news?” Michael asks desperately after the intern, who can never quite look them in the eyes, talks about the pelvic fracture and the resulting internal bleeding, “What’s like good?” 

“Um.” The intern scrambles, “We’re not… He’s-” 

“There are no head injuries?” Bruce asks, “His spine is clear?” 

“Yes.” The intern agrees, “No head trauma, no spine injuries. His collarbone is being repaired. He’ll have full use of that arm.” 

He repeats all the things Michael’s already heard. He says nothing about blood loss or how Talan’s heart is doing. 

“His legs?” Michael asks. “They said it was his hips when we were-”

“No, not his hips. His pelvis. They stopped the bleeding.” The intern answers, “But we don’t know for now, he might need another surgery to fix it once he’s stronger.” 

“Thank you Brock.” Bruce says dismissively, “Go back.” 

Michael scribbles down the last thing Brock had said before he looks up. Bruce is frowning. 

“What am I not getting?” Michael asks worriedly, “Like what didn’t he say? When he’s stronger? What does that mean?” 

Bruce doesn’t answer, he picks up the phone on his desk, dials and waits. He cups his hand over the mouthpiece and looks at Michael. 

“He’s too dumb to remember the right things.” Bruce says angry and frustrated, “I need someone who makes sense. He doesn’t get it’s like my kid in that OR.”

Michael wants to scream that it’s his kid because both of Bruce’s children are safe and alive at home. He drops his envelope on the desk and stands up. 

“I need air.” He announces even though Bruce isn’t listening to him. 

Once he’s out of the office, Michael turns right and starts walking down the hallway. He loops around the floor twice before he finds his way to the bank of elevators. Half hidden behind a decrepit looking potted palm tree is a door that leads out to a balcony with picnic tables. Michael inches his way past the palm tree and walks outside. 

He’s there for a few seconds before his phone rings. He automatically expects Ryan and doesn’t bother to check who’s calling before he answers. 

It’s Hilary. 

“We’re at the hospital.” She says before he gets a chance to greet her, “ But we don’t know-” 

“Eight floor.” Michael explains walking back inside, “By the elevators I’m waiting.” 

“Mom and Bob are on their way too -” She says and an elevator door beep and the noise of people talking half drowns out the end of her sentence. 

“What?” Michael turns the volume on his phone up and turns away from the wind. 

“They’re in the waiting room.” Hilary patiently repeats, “It’s where they told us to go but I’m on my way up, we can go back together. Do you have news?” 

“No.” Michael hates admitting it, “He’s still in surgery. They fixed his arm but we’re not getting a ton of news.” 

“Fifth floor.” Hilary says, “Is Oliver there?” 

“Ryan and him aren’t here yet. He’s gonna go with you. Oliver.” Michael tries to explain, “Once he’s here, he’s going with you.” 

“Mom brought Oliver clothes.” Hilary babbles, “What he left at their place if he doesn’t have any. We have rooms somewhere but there’s nowhere close. I’m here, hold on.” 

She hangs up before Michael can reply. Seconds later the doors of the elevator open and she walks out. 

Hilary is dressed in yoga clothes, her hair up in a ponytail and she only has flip-flops on her feet. She’s holding her wallet and her phone in her hands because she doesn’t have a purse. 

“I was at the gym.” Hilary explains when she sees Michael eyeing her outfit. “Didn’t take the time to go home and change. I just left.” 

“Thanks.” Michael takes a step forward and hugs her, “Thanks.” 

Michael’s phone rings again. 

“It might be mom.” Hilary theorizes, “She’s not dealing well you don’t have to answer.” 

“No. It’s Ryan.” Michael says relieved before answering the call. “You’re here. Hi.” 

* 

They decide that Oliver isn’t coping well enough to wait with them and receive news as it comes in. Instead of walking up to Bruce’s office with Ryan, Oliver goes down to the waiting room with Caleb. 

There’s an untouched tray of food on the desk and Michael sits cross-legged on the floor with various bits of paper spread out in front of him. He looks up when Ryan walks in and relief spreads across his face. 

“Where’s Oliver?” Michael asks because he needs to see that one of their kids is okay, needs to make sure Oliver is still good. 

“Downstairs with your mom.” Ryan sits down on the ground beside Michael without asking questions. “And Caleb, he’s gonna try to get him to eat.” 

“How’s he doing?” Bruce asks before Michael has a chance. 

“Not good.” Ryan decides to be honest, “He needs a doctor or someone to go see if-” 

“Why?” Michael interrupts. 

“He like shut down.” Ryan tells Michael, “He wouldn’t even dress himself I had to wash his hair. He ain’t talking or looking at anyone. He needs someone to-”

“I’ll go.” Bruce offers, “You stay here I’ll go see Oliver.” 

“Thanks.” Michael says uselessly from the ground, the word having lost most of its meaning. 

Bruce leaves the room and Michael closes his eyes. 

“I gotta know.” Ryan begs, “Tell me.”

Michael opens his eyes and looks down at his pieces of paper. He shuffles them around until he finds the first one. 

“His blood pressure was super low, they had to give him more blood on the way. His heart was all over the place a few times but it was okay once we landed… He made it to the hospital good.” Michael puts down the hospital pamphlet and picks up an envelope, “His pelvis is broken, they put him through an MRI before surgery and they found bleeding. They said they were gonna look for nerve damage to his legs-”

“Fuck” Ryan groans. 

“They might have to do a bone graft to fix his collarbone but they usually take bone from the hip. But since that’s injured they weren’t sure. They fixed it now though so that’s not important. Sorry no they put a plate. It wasn’t a graft.” Michael looks up from what he’s reading, “They might not operate on his pelvis today. ‘Cause he’s not strong enough yet but they stopped the bleeding and he was more stable once that happened. He’s still getting blood.” 

“When d’we know?” Ryan rubs his face and tries to take it all in, “If they’re fixing it or if he’s gonna-” 

“No one’s come out with an update for a while.” Michael puts the envelope aside, “He was out the whole time we were flying. I talked to him.” 

“How long’s he been in surgery?” 

“Two and a half hours?” Michael goes back to reading his envelope. “They said it could be like six… His lungs are good he’ll breathe on his own when he wakes up. He’s going to be in post-op ICU-” 

“Stop reading.” Ryan pleads, “Come on MP.” 

“He’s really hurt Ry.” Michael’s voice gets low, “They said the blood in Costa Rica was safe and that if he hadn’t gotten it he wouldn’t have made it. He lost a lot.”

“We tried to stop it at the beach but like with his ribs it was hurting him and he couldn’t breathe. They kept hurting him an I couldn’t help.” Ryan stares at his hands because he can’t look at Michael anymore, “He wasn’t out in the ambulance and they had to put that tube in his chest. He was screaming… Fuck.” Ryan tries to punch the armrest of his chair but Michael stops him. 

“It’s the best trauma center in Florida.” Michael leans his head on Ryan’s shoulder, “They pulled in their chief of surgery and nurses. They’re taking care of him Ry. He’s not hurting.” 

“He was so tough.” Ryan swallows back tears, “Like it hurt so bad for him to breathe and he still did it and he listened to everything they said and he stayed awake. I was yelling at him so hard. I left Ols behind.” 

Ryan still feels incredibly guilty for abandoning Oliver. He can’t help but think that part of the reason Oliver is having such a hard is because he’d been left alone. 

“He found me.” Michael reassures because he knows being mad at Ryan is useless. “You kept Tal alive… I wouldn’t have seen him- I shouldn’t have made you feel bad about that. I didn’t know how bad it was with Tal but-”

Michael lets a sob escape because it’s too much to think about. After having spent two hours staring at an unconscious Talan, watching his blood pressure drop and his lips turn blue and another two hours waiting for news he breaks down. 

“We’re here.” Ryan comforts, “Your fam’s here and mine’s coming and we got this okay? Dude you got him here and saved him and got him good surgeons. With me we’d still just be in Costa Rica. We got him. It’s okay.”

Michael nods. 

They don’t have much to say to each other afterwards. They’re both exhausted and drained. They sit side by side for comfort but don’t interact. They’re both so busy dealing with the thought of two sick kids that they have little left to offer to one other. 

It’s getting late and the sun has set. The hallway outside Bruce’s office is quiet and the only sound in the room is the quiet drone of the air conditioning vent. Finally, when the next half hour scheduled update is twenty minutes overdue Ryan takes Michael’s hand and holds it tight. 

“I didn’t-” Michael whispers because he’s ashamed of what he’s about to say, “All year he needed me an I didn’t try to… I was mad at him for-” 

“Hey not now.” Ryan comforts. “Don’t. I know the kid and he’s gonna pull through.” 

Ryan doesn’t know why he isn’t more upset. A good part of him feels numb. He’s exhausted and wants to shut everything out, Michael, the room, the relentless drone of the vent and the muffled pages coming through the office door. 

He doesn’t want to go back down to face their family and their questions and their tears. 

“There’s food.” Michael says, “If you didn’t eat.” 

“Can’t eat.” Ryan answers. 

“Same.” 

*

Bruce walks back to his office with his arm around Oliver. Oliver’s sunglasses are in his pocket and his tear stained face hurts Bruce’s heart.

“I don’t know why I’m crying so much.” Oliver apologizes, “I can’t stop. I’m sorry.”

“It’s shock Oliver.” Bruce guides him around a corner, “It happens when things are too much. You’re in shock but it’s okay to cry and be upset. Just let it happen, no one’s judging you.”

“I want it to stop.” Oliver pleads, “Please. I want to stop thinking about it.” 

“You’re safe.” Bruce reminds him, “Talan is safe and so’s the rest of your family.” 

Oliver nods. 

“There’s medication I can give you for right now-” 

“I don’t want it.” Oliver interrupts. “It makes Talan sleep I don’t want to sleep I want to be here if something bad happens I want to know what’s going on.” 

“You will.” Bruce assures, “What happened today was awful and I know you got left alone?” 

Oliver nods. 

“And you didn’t know what was going on?” Bruce asks, “How did that feel?” 

Oliver doesn’t answer. Bruce sees his face scrunch up and feels his shoulders shake harder. 

“Okay Oliver.” Bruce tries to get his attention back, “Do you feel my hand on your shoulder?” 

“Yeah.” Oliver answers after a bit. “I do.” 

“Ok, that’s good.” Bruce encourages, “Can you feel your feet touching the floor?” 

Oliver nods. 

“Focus on that.” Bruce keeps his voice calm, “We’re going to go see your dads. Just keep feeling your feet touch the floor. Is my hand still on your shoulder?” 

“Yeah.” Oliver nods, “It is.” 

“Good.” Bruce stops them in front of the elevators, “We’re going to go up to my office and I’ll look at your arm.” 

“I want to know about Talan.” Oliver ducks under Bruce’s arm, “I read his chart in Costa Rica I know they’re lying to me. He didn’t just hurt his collarbone. He had burn marks on his chest from like that thing they do to your heart when it doesn’t beat right. What if he’s dead and no one’s gonna tell me. I was out there with him and no one’s gonna tell me. They won’t let me give blood. I want to give blood.”

Oliver pulls his hood back on and balls his hands in the sleeves. He covers his face and looks down. He stops walking forward. 

“Oliver.” 

The elevator doors open and close and Bruce ignores them. He lets the elevator leave and doesn’t press the button ago. He steps to the side to be closer to Oliver.

“Oliver can I touch your arm?” Bruce asks. 

Oliver nods. 

“Okay.” Bruce wraps his hand around Oliver’s uninjured upper arm, “Focus back on your feet and take some deep breaths for me. You’re doing really good. Slow deep breaths okay. Relax your hands. Good job.” 

“I want to see my dads.” Oliver asks. 

“Yeah. We’re on our way.” Bruce says. He leans back to press the up button for the elevators and waits again. “You have to keep walking with me to go.” 

Once they’re in the elevator, Oliver takes a step to the side and Bruce is forced to drop his arm. 

“I want to give blood.” Oliver persists, “I don’t care if it doesn’t go to Talan people need it and I wanna help.”

“Breathe Oliver.” Bruce reminds him, “We can talk to your dads.” 

“I just want it to stop.” Oliver huffs out, “If I help it stops.” 

“How about we make sure you’re okay first?” Bruce suggests, “That’s more important right now.”

“No.” Oliver says desperately, “I want to help. I don’t want to just sit here and do nothing and wait and have my dads all over me worrying. I don’t want ‘em to make a big deal. My arm’s cut and I’m flipping out but Tal’s fucking dying. I’m not important.” 

“Oliver.” Bruce stops him, “Focus on-” 

“No.” Oliver refuses.

“Can I touch your-” 

“No!” Oliver moves back again. 

“It’s okay to be upset Oliver.” Bruce keeps his voice calm, “If you want to give blood I have to make sure you’re okay. It’s the rules. You have stitches?” 

“On my arm.” Oliver answers, “They don’t hurt.” 

“That’s good.” Bruce watches the floor light turn to eight and steps out as soon as the doors open to keep them from closing in on Oliver, “Come on, let’s go find your dads. Maybe they got more news.” 

Bruce walks around the eight floor five times with Oliver before leading him back into the office. Oliver has stopped crying by the time he leads him through the door of his office.

There’s still no new update on Talan. 

“Bud.” Michael says relieved as soon as he walks in.

He stands up and walks over to go hug Oliver and Oliver takes a step away from him. 

“Sorry.” Oliver shakes his head, “N-no.” 

“He’s not okay with being touched.” Bruce explains apologetically, “It’s too much for him right now.” 

“It’s okay.” Michael manages to say even though he’s taken aback and hurt. “Come sit with us Ols.” 

“I’m good like-” Oliver points in front of him, “Walking. I gotta move.”

Michael doesn’t move. He hovers close to Oliver ready to hug him again or help him out. He’s felt helpless for so long that he can’t just let Oliver refuse comfort. 

Oliver doesn’t pay attention to him. Instead, he starts to pace the length of the office. He makes a straight line from the door to the window and turns to cut behind the desk. 

“He’s doing okay.” Bruce reassures.

“He doesn’t look okay.” Michael answers skeptically, “Ry said he wasn’t okay.” 

There’s nowhere in the office for Oliver to go to allow the rest of them to have a private conversation about him.

“Oliver if you want to go walk in the hallway you can.” Bruce offers. “There’s more room there and you’ll be able to see if someone’s coming to talk to us.” 

Oliver considers this option and nods. He takes a step away from Michael and walks out. They see him continue to pace up and down the hallway through the glass door. 

“It’s like he’s doing laps.” Ryan notes, “There’s no way he’s good.” 

“I’m going to prescribe a tranquilizer to help him out tonight.” Bruce walks to his desk and pulls out a pad, “We’ll see how he is tomorrow. Take him somewhere to sleep and to give him a break. Make sure he eats. I know you want him here with you but this is posttraumatic stress, he needs time away from the situation. He needs to feel safe and he needs to wind down. I know he wants to wait and see Talan but I think it’s better if you have someone take him away.” 

“If it’s better for him to go-” Ryan starts, “He’s gotta be okay. That’s the most important thing.” 

“He’s gotta stay to see Talan.” Michael disagrees. He starts pacing the room himself, moving closer to the door to keep an eye on Oliver. “We should let him stay until Tal’s out of surgery.” 

“He wasn’t talking on the plane.” Ryan notes, “And he is now I don’t wanna-” 

“He won’t go.” Michael argues, “You wanna tell him now he has to leave? He was freaking out before not knowing where Talan was or how he was doing. He can’t go through that again. We’re not leaving him alone again.” 

“Fine.” Ryan agrees. “Gator stays.” 

“If you don’t think it’s good.” Michael offers to reconsider. 

“You think he should stay he stays.” Ryan closes his eyes, “I’m too tired to fight Mike. I can’t fight. Waiting’s killing me.”

Ryan opens his eyes but doesn’t look at Michael. He turns to Bruce. 

“I need news.” Ryan pleads, “Just tell me he’s still okay.”

*

They wait for another two hours. 

Ryan, Michael and Oliver make their way back to the waiting room and slowly more family starts to trickle in. 

The small room fills up and they run out of chair and couch space. Oliver sits between Hilary and a wall, as far away from the door as he can. He flips through the pages of his book, folding and unfolding corners without reading anything. 

Devon is sitting alone next to Ryan. 

They order food that no one eats and stare at the door willing a doctor or a nurse or a social worker to come by and deliver news. 

Finally, just as Michael considers sending Oliver back to the hotel with Hilary, a doctor pushes the door and asks to see them. 

*

“He’ll be breathing on his own.” The doctor informs them, “He’s going to be groggy for awhile and he has a lot of pain medication in his system. He’s in the ICU, he’ll wake up soon, you can stay with him.” 

They have a hundred questions and can’t remember any of them. Instead of asking about Talan’s legs and lungs and collarbone, Ryan and Michael follow the surgeon to the ICU. 

“He’s still critical but stable for now.” She keeps talking as she stops by the nurses’ station and picks up Talan’s chart, “There’s details about his surgery we’ll need to go over with the trauma team tomorrow. He’s still receiving a transfusion and we’re going to keep him comfortable. He’s right at the end of the hallway.” 

She leads them to a room with a sliding glass doors and stops right outside of it. 

“There are a lot of machines.” She warns, “We’re still breathing for him. We’ll take that tube out once he starts waking up. His nurse will be right here, if you have any questions she can page me.” 

“Thanks.” Ryan manages to stutter, already looking beyond the doctor to Talan. 

“He’s a tough kid, a lot of people wouldn’t have made the trip let alone the surgery.” She tells them, “Go see him.” 

*

They sit on either side of Talan’s bed and wait. His breathing tube is removed and it’s comforting to watch his chest rise and fall on its own. 

Oliver comes to join them and sits by the foot of Talan’s bed. The medication Bruce had prescribed has started to kick in and he’s calmer. As Oliver’s eyes start to close Michael decides that maybe it’s time to send Oliver off to the hotel with Hilary. 

“Hey.” Ryan says, “I saw that.” 

“What?” Michael turns from Oliver to Ryan and catches Talan blinking. His voice softens. “Hey Baby.”

Talan blinks again and turns his face towards Michael’s voice. 

“We’re here.” Michael suddenly has a hard time talking, “You’re safe.” 

“Open your eyes again Baby.” Ryan reaches out to stroke Talan’s face, “You can do it. You’re home.” 

Talan wakes up slowly. His eyes stay open a bit longer with each passing minute. He swallows and winces a few times. 

“You had a tube down your throat that’s why it feels weird.” Ryan explains, “Can you talk?” 

Tal weakly shakes his head. 

“You’re doing good Baby.” Michael reassures, “You don’t have to talk.” 

Talan nods and clears his throat. He licks his lips but doesn’t open his eyes again for a few more minutes. 

“You got really hurt surfing.” Ryan explains when Talan’s eyes blink open and don’t close, “And you had surgery. You had a tough day.”

Ryan is the only one who touches Talan. He continuously brushes back Talan’s hair as he talks comforting nonsense to him. Another half hour passes by and Talan is dazedly looking around past all of them. He closes his eyes every time the nurse walks in to check on him. 

“He’s still stable.” She tells them, “That’s good.” 

“We should send Ols with Hil.” Michael says once the nurse is standing away from Talan’s bed, “He can come back tomorrow.” 

“No.” Oliver speaks up, “I wanna stay ‘till he’s awake for real.” 

“This might be it for awhile.” Ryan explains carefully, “He had a hard time.” 

“I wanna stay.” Oliver pleads, “Let me stay.” 

It’s harder to watch Talan struggle to wake up than it had been to watch him be unconscious. Talan frowns and makes whining sounds. His head moves from side to side and he seems restless. 

“It’s okay Babe.” Michael tries to comfort him. “You’re okay.”

Talan opens his eyes and focuses on Ryan.

“S’I sleep?” Talan asks confused. His voice is hoarse and he licks his lips again, “Hi.” 

“Yeah Baby.” Ryan pushes Talan's hair back off his face and swallows hard, “You slept for awhile we've been waiting for you to wake up.” 

“S'dark.” Talan mumbles, he turns his head towards Ryan's touch, “D’we go?” 

“Nah Baby.” Ryan scratches Talan's head, “Just go back to sleep. It's all good.” 

Ryan glances away from Talan for a second to look at Michael. Michael has his hand over his mouth to muffle his sobs. Ryan reaches across the bed to squeeze his arm. 

“It’s okay Mike.” Ryan says, “He’s gonna be good.” 

Michael hadn’t thought of Talan like this. He hadn’t realized that Talan would wake up confused and sick. In all the things he’d considered, he’d never considered that Talan wouldn’t wake up being Talan. 

Michael nods. 

“’Ver?” Talan asks, “Ver.” 

“Oliver is right here.” Ryan keeps talking because Michael can't, “He's sitting next to your feet.” 

Talan tries but isn’t able to move his head to look down at Oliver. He falls the half-inch back against the bed and turns away from Ryan.

“You need to sleep right now okay?” Ryan tells Talan. “You gotta sleep.”

“Sleep.” Talan agrees. 

Talan tries to turn to his side and both Michael and Ryan reach out to keep him on his back. 

“Your shoulder's hurt.” Ryan explains, “You gotta stay on your back okay?” 

Talan’s agitated for a second. He turns against their hands before settling on his back. He looks annoyed but the expression quickly falls away when Ryan starts petting his hair again.

Talan looks so hurt that Michael has a hard time touching him. He watches Talan scrunch up his face and worries. 

“Anything hurt Tal?” Michael finally manages to say, “Nothing should hurt.” 

“No.” Talan mumbles, he turns in the general direction of Michael's voice. “No hurt.” 

“Good.” Michael says softly. He grabs Talan’s hand, kisses it and puts it back against the blankets. “We’re going to be right here.” 

“Stay.” Talan agrees. 

“We’re not gonna leave.” Ryan reassures, “Do you want water?” 

Talan frowns at the question.

“Just sleep Baby.” Michael soothes, “We’re right here.” 

*

Talan falls asleep quickly.

When Michael turns away from Talan, he finds Oliver staring at him with wide, panicked eyes. 

“Come on Bud.” Michael grabs hold of Oliver’s arm before he can protest, “Say bye to Dad.” 

Oliver stares at his feet as he walks but waves at Ryan before Michael leads him out of the room. 

Michael let’s go of Oliver once they’re in the hallway but Oliver doesn’t start walking forward on his own. He doesn’t complain about being made to leave. He simply stays standing in the same spot and stares at the ground. 

“Tal’s good Ols.” Michael hugs Oliver tight, “He’s just going to sleep for awhile, and you’re going to go to the hotel with Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Hil?” 

Oliver doesn’t hug back or answer and Michael can’t tell if it’s the medication kicking in or Oliver retreating further away from reality. 

“Oliver.” Michael squeezes both his son’s shoulders trying to get a reaction out of him, “Come on Bud tell me it’s okay.” 

Oliver shrugs before fighting against Michael’s grip. 

“I’m sorry.” Michael apologizes. He lets Oliver step away from him. “You don’t wanna be touched I keep not thinking. Lets go down.”

Michael texts Hilary. He doesn’t want to walk into the waiting room and answer questions. He doesn’t want Oliver to be fussed over by everyone. 

Hilary waits for them by the locked ICU doors, her eyes are bloodshot and she’s still wearing her workout clothes. Michael’s never been more grateful to have her around. 

“Hey Monkey.” She reaches out to Oliver, “Hungry?” 

“He probably just needs sleep.” Michael tells her, like he’s handing off a five year old, “He took meds to calm down and you can give him more if he needs them. He gets really worked up thinking that he’s not helping. Don’t leave him alone or-” 

“We’re going to be okay.” Hilary reassures. “We got a car, he’s going to stay with me. We’ll get food.” 

“Yeah he hasn’t eaten all day.” Michael agrees. 

Michael has a hard time handing Oliver off but he can’t tear himself away from waiting next to Talan. He knows Oliver can’t handle another hour in the hospital and he regrets allowing Oliver to stay. He keeps a tight grip on the back of Oliver’s shirt. 

“Do you and Ryan need anything?” Hilary offers, “Clothes or food? Coffee?” 

“No.” Michael refuses, “We’re going to spend the night here with Tal.” 

“How’s he doing?” Hilary asks because she’s desperate for news, “Did he?” 

“He woke up.” Oliver says and his voice sounds odd, “He can’t move.” 

“He can move.” Michael corrects, “He’s really tired Ols- He’s sleeping now.” 

“They didn’t fix his hips.” Oliver worries, “I was touching his leg the whole time he didn’t feel me.” 

Michael wants to correct Oliver again but stops. Talan hadn’t said anything about Oliver touching him. He hadn’t been able to sit up. Michael tries desperately to keep the look of pure panic off his face. 

“Monkey.” Hilary distracts Oliver, “Say bye so we can go. You need to eat.” 

This goodbye seems easier for Oliver. He takes a step away from Michael to avoid being hugged and waves at him just as awkwardly as he’d waved at Ryan earlier. 

It’s harder for Michael. 

“He’s on antibiotics.” Michael forces himself to stop thinking about Talan’s legs, “They’re in the bag Ryan has downstairs. I don’t know if he’s taken any today. If he’s scared you’re suppose to help him breathe or-” 

“We’ll breathe.” Hilary insists, “I got him Mike.” 

“Ok.” Michael nods but doesn’t let go of Oliver’s shirt, “If he’s not-” 

“It’s okay Dad.” Oliver says still in the same oddly flat voice, “Go see Tal.” 

“You call too.” Michael reminds Oliver, “I’ll answer.” 

Oliver nods but doesn’t move to hug him goodbye. Michael lets go of Oliver’s shirt and watches him walk away with Hilary. When they’ve turned the corner and disappeared out of his sight, Michael turns around and buzzes to be allowed back into the ICU. 

“Talan Phelps-Lochte.” He says to the nurse who answers, “I’m his dad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been staring at this chapter for a month.
> 
> I can't look at it anymore. 
> 
> Let's just all pretend the medical details are right. 
> 
> Thank you, I love you.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was 5000 words two days ago and it was 12000 words before I proofread and decided a chunk of it was a better fit for Chapter 11. 
> 
> The number of people who read this fic is kind of overwhelming, whenever someone new gives kudos or comments I always sneak to see what else they read and it's fascinating to see how many fandoms are involved in this. I say thanks all the time to the people who comment but I just wanted to make sure that I get everybody.
> 
> Thank you for reading this. It means the world to me. 
> 
> <3

Michael is buzzed back into the ICU. He walks through the double doors and dread and fear settle themselves back at the bottom of his stomach. The corridor is cheerful yellow with a wave of blue floor tiles running down its length. Identical sliding glass doors open up to rooms filled with sick children and worried parents. Michael forces himself to keep his eyes on the blue floor tiles. He follows its gentle curve back around the corner of the nurses’ station to Talan’s room. A room also filled with a sick kid and worried parents.

Ryan hasn’t moved. He glances over his shoulder when Michael walks in but refocuses his attention on Talan almost right away. 

“Ols gone?” Ryan asks without looking back at Michael. 

“Yeah with Hil.” Michael answers. 

Michael walks past Ryan, around the foot of Talan’s bed and stays standing there. He grips the texture plastic railing of the bed and tries to reconcile that this broken and hurt child is their Talan. 

“I wanted him to go with Caleb.” Ryan says, “We didn’t-” 

“He’s with Hil.” Michael interrupts, “Family.” 

“Yeah with Bowman.” Ryan answers shortly. 

Michael ignores Ryan. He rests his hand over the blankets covering Talan’s legs and squeezes Talan’s calf. Talan doesn’t move.

“Oliver said Tal can’t feel his legs.” Michael admits. 

“Yeah they didn’t fix everything.” Ryan answers shrugging off Michael’s concerns, “He wasn’t okay for more surgery. They’re gonna wait.”

“Yeah but if he can’t feel his-” Michael starts and stops, “Ry, that means he can’t walk.” 

“They gotta do more surgery.” Ryan answers, his voice still calm and all his attention entirely focused on Talan. “He’s okay.” 

“Ryan.” Michael tries to get his full attention, “He’s not. If he can’t walk we need to-” 

“Stop.” Ryan asks, “Not here.” 

Michael seethes. He waits until he sees Talan blink before he talks again. 

“Talan.” Michael calls out firmly. “Wake up.” 

“Stop!” Ryan’s head snaps back and he glares at Michael, “Hey.”

“Talan.” Michael repeats ignoring Ryan. 

“I will-” Ryan starts threatening and stops. “He’s sleeping, he’s on meds to sleep. Stop Mike.” 

“No.” Michael refuses, “Talan Michael wake up.” 

“Yo.” Ryan bites, “What the fuck’s wrong with you?” 

“Ols said…” Michael starts but doesn’t finish, “I have to- Talan. Tal.” 

“Stop.” Ryan orders. “Leave him-” 

“M’no.” Talan mumbles, “Stop.”

Ryan glares at Michael before turning to Talan. 

“Sorry Baby.” Ryan immediately comforts, “Go back to sleep.” 

“No.” Michael tells Talan, “Tal, open your eyes.” 

Talan groans and shakes his head. 

“Mike.” Ryan threatens again. 

“Talan.” Michael flips up the blankets covering Talan’s feet, “Move your toes.” 

“Stop.” Talan whines, “No.” 

“Mike.” Ryan gets up from his chair, “He told you-” 

“Talan.” Michael says louder, “Move your toes.” 

Talan’s toes stay immobile and Michael curls his hand around Talan’s foot. 

“Can you feel that?” Michael asks, “Talan. Answer.” 

Ryan looks ready to hit him and Michael tries to ignore it. He anxiously watches Talan’s face and waits for him to pay attention. 

“Talan can you feel your-” 

“You’re not touching me.” Talan says frustrated, “Stop.” 

“I’m holding your right foot.” Michael points out. “Push against my hand.” 

“Mike he can’t feel.” Ryan takes a step towards Michael, “He’s not like-” 

“What?” Talan opens his eyes and looks more alarmed, “I can’t?” 

Talan tries to raise his head again to look at his feet, his heart monitor beeps faster and he struggles against his pillows. 

“Relax Baby it’s okay.” Ryan soothes, “Mike. Stop.” He adds more harshly. 

“No.” Talan cries out, “Hey no.” 

Instead of comforting Talan, Ryan grabs Michael’s arm and drags him away from the bed and out of the room. 

“Ry-” Michael stops once they’re outside, “I-”

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Ryan roughly lets go of Michael’s arm, “Fuck off.” 

“Ry he can’t feel his-” 

“Get out.” Ryan says angrily, “Fuck off.” 

“Ry-” Michael steps back closer to his husband and looks around the almost silent ICU floor, “Stop. I just had to-” 

“He’s in pain.” Ryan manages to get out, “He’s groggy, he’s not okay. He wants to go home and he doesn’t understand what’s going on. You can’t be in there freaking him out.” 

“So you want me to go?” Michael challenges, “Our kid almost died and I’m not allowed to go-” 

“Yes.” Ryan snaps, “He said stop. You didn’t listen. So go.” 

“Not your call.” Michael almost growls, “He’s mine too. I was in the plane. I watched him-” 

Talan’s nurse steps forward looking worried. She eyes them for a second before shooting an alarmed glance back at another nurse. Behind the nurses’ station, the other nurse grabs a phone. Michael imagines she’s probably calling security. 

Michael is too tired to fight with Ryan and he can’t come up with the energy to continue arguing about Talan. He looks past Ryan to Talan who has fallen back asleep and makes up his mind to leave. 

“You know what?” Michael takes a step back from Ryan. “Talan’s gonna sleep through the night. Oliver probably won’t. I’ve gotta go see Ols.”

“Fine.” Ryan crosses his arm. 

Michael has a dozen mean replies for Ryan. He wants to yell at him for not caring more about Oliver and for not caring more about Talan’s legs. For not doing more or being more. For not being a husband, for not being able to provide him with any comfort whatsoever. 

“Whatever.” Michael takes another step back. He rubs his hand over his face “Tell Tal I love him. I’ll have my cell on if-” 

Ryan turns back into Talan’s room before Michael can finish and Michael is left standing in the hallway alone. He waves at Talan’s nurse and leaves without looking back into Talan’s room. 

*

Michael doesn’t bother stopping by the waiting room where he guesses most of their family is still waiting. He thinks for a second of going to ask Devon to look after Ryan but chooses to leave instead. 

He doesn’t have a car and his phone is dead. He walks halfway around the hospital before he spots a free cab. He has to use the cab driver’s phone to call Hilary and find out the name of their hotel. 

Michael doesn’t talk to the hotel clerk who checks him in. He nods along to his questions and doesn’t offer answers to any of them. He hands over his credit card and takes it back along with several hotel key cards. 

Hilary meets him outside her room. She’s still in her yoga gear and doesn’t ask Michael any questions. 

“Oliver’s in bed.” Hilary explains, “But I don’t think he’s sleeping.” 

“He’s not sleeping.” Michael guesses. “Did he eat?”

“No.” Hilary answers, “We got food but he didn’t touch it. We tried to watch tv with him, Mom, Bob and me but whatever they gave him worked and he was nodding off.” Hilary keeps explaining, “He’s calmer, he didn’t want to take the second pill the gave him. I didn’t want to-”

“I got him.” Michael answers. 

They’re both whispering and the door to the hotel room is half opened. Michael leans in to hug his sister. When he pulls away he starts to sort through the mess of hotel key cards he’s holding.

“I got him.” He repeats still sorting through key cards, “Grab another room, I’ll stay the night.” 

“Is Tal-” 

“Ry’s got him.” Michael chooses a half-truth because he isn’t ready to share the full reality of his marital problem. “I got Ols.” 

“Call if you need anything.” Hilary makes him promise, “Mom and Bob are next door. His pills are in the bathroom.” 

“Thanks.” Michael says and is exhausted by all of it. He steps closer to the door and waits for Hilary to walk away. 

“I said I’d take him to give blood tomorrow.” Hilary almost apologizes, “He really wants to and I don’t-” 

“I’ll figure it out.” Michael answers even though he has no intention of letting Oliver donate blood, “Thanks.” 

Michael closes the hotel room door before Hilary starts walking away. Most of the lights inside the room are still on. Oliver is sitting up in bed holding his book but not reading. 

“Hey Bud.” Michael says walking in. 

Michael sits down in bed beside Oliver and waits for him to talk. He carefully takes the closed book out of Oliver’s hand and waits again. 

“Talan’s okay.” Michael reassures, “He’s sleeping. You’re feeling better?” 

Oliver nods. 

“That’s good.” Michael says uselessly. 

There’s an unopened bag of food on the table by the window and a pile of the clothes Debbie had brought for Oliver from Baltimore. Oliver is changed and Michael can see fresh, clean gauze under the sleeve of his son’s t-shirt. There’s more gauze and an ace bandage wrapped around Oliver’s foot. Michael walks over to the table between the two beds and plugs in his phone to charge.

The silence between them is awkward for Michael but Oliver doesn’t seem to mind. 

“You’re not hurting?” Michael asks.

“No.” Oliver says quietly. 

“You have more pills to take.” Michael reminds him, “To sleep, I’ll get you some water.” 

Oliver shakes his head. 

“Ok.” Michael stalls unsure, “I’m trying to-” 

“I know.” Oliver nods.

Oliver stretches out his legs and flexes his foot before falling back against the pillows he reaches for the book Michael had taken away and starts nervously thumbing through the pages. 

“It was a rough day.” Michael says. 

Michael waits for Oliver to look at him. When Oliver keeps flipping through the pages of his book, Michael takes it away again. He ignores what Bruce had said and puts his hand on Oliver’s arm and squeezes it. 

“You were really brave.” Michael insists, “Look at me Ols.” 

Oliver slowly looks up, he holds Michael’s stare for a few seconds before glancing away. 

“You were super brave you-” 

“Stop.” Oliver asks. 

“Okay.” Michael says before going quiet. 

Oliver seems happy to sit in bed and stare off into space and Michael doesn’t want to say anything else to upset him. He keeps his hand on Oliver’s arm and Oliver doesn’t shrug him off. 

“I didn’t eat.” Michael offers, “I’m hungry. Want to get food?”

Oliver shrugs. 

“Oliver.” Michael tries not to let his exasperation show. “I’m here for you.” 

Michael isn’t exasperated with Oliver. He’s exasperated with his own inability to help anyone out. 

“We have to worry about you too.” Michael tries. “Let’s get food.” 

The room service menu is on the bedside table by the phone and Michael picks it up to read through the late night menu. He holds it out to Oliver. 

“Anything look good?” He asks. 

Oliver shrugs and Michael realizes that he’s probably not going to get Oliver involved in a conversation. He orders burgers for the both of them, hangs up and is met with more silence. 

“Do you want Aunt Hil back?” Michael asks defeated. 

“No.” Oliver answers. “Stay here.”

“Do you want to watch tv?” Michael picks up the remote and offers it to Oliver. 

Oliver shrugs and Michael chooses to turn it on anyways. He avoids news channels and sport channels and finds a movie channel he doubts will interrupt their broadcast with special news reports. He sneaks sideways glances at Oliver every minute until he finds Oliver staring back at him. 

“Stop.” Oliver asks. 

Michael can’t pay attention to the movie. His mind wanders back to Talan, to Ryan, to surgery, to meetings with doctors and to the second pill Oliver still hasn’t taken. 

Their food comes and Michael sets two places at the table and puts the ketchup bottle in front of Oliver’s plate. 

“Come eat Bud.” He asks, “Sit.” 

Oliver follows instructions easy. He gets up from the bed and limps to the table. He refuses to put weight on his injured foot and Michael reaches out to help him. 

“You said it didn’t hurt.” Michael accuses before he can stop himself. 

“When I walk on it yea.” Oliver admits. “It’s cut.”

“Oliver.” Michael says alarmed. “We have to look after you too. You get attention too. Show me your foot.” 

“No.” Oliver refuses, “I’m okay.” 

Michael wants to press the subject. Wants to give up on making Oliver feel better and go get Debbie to take over or to call Hilary and ask her to come back. He thinks that somehow Oliver might respond better to being mothered. 

“Dad.” Oliver says, “It’s okay.” 

“Ols.” Michael shrugs off Oliver’s reassurances, “Let me look at your foot.” 

“Grandpa looked at it.” Oliver says sitting down, “He wrapped it.” 

Oliver looks at the food in front of him, grabs the bottle of ketchup and squeezes a good amount on the side of his plate. He picks up a fry, dips it in and takes a bite. Michael is so relieved to see Oliver eat that he doesn’t bring up his foot injury again. 

Michael is starving and he eats fast. He wipes his hand on a napkin and watches Oliver pick at his fries and eat the pickle on the side of his plate. Michael leaves the table to go grab Oliver’s antibiotics and his sleeping pills from the bathroom. He puts one of each on the side of Oliver’s plate. 

“You have to take the antibiotics.” Michael says, “The second pill’s to sleep if you want it.” 

“Are you staying here?” Oliver asks, swirling a fry around in his ketchup. 

“Yeah Bud.” Michael promises, “I’ll sleep here.”

Oliver eats another fry and steals the pickle from Michael’s plate before he takes a sip of his water, takes both pills and swallows them. 

“Thanks.” Michael says relieved, “Eat your burger.” 

Oliver keeps picking at his food and Michael decides that it’s good enough. He finishes his own meal and watches Oliver slowly make his way through his fries. 

Michael’s phone rings across the room. Oliver’s face goes white.

“I’ll be right back.” Michael says getting up, his own heart beating faster, “I’m just gonna answer it in the hall.” 

“Who is it?” Oliver asks. 

Michael reaches for his phone, looks at the screen and sees the number of their agent. 

“It’s not about Talan.” Michael says relieved, “Promise. It’s PR.” 

He briefly flashes the screen in Oliver’s direction before swiping the screen to answer. 

“I’m gonna be right outside.” He promises again, “Finish eating your food.” 

Michael answers the call and refuses once again to put out a family statement. He hangs up and tries calling Ryan. When his call goes straight to voicemail he calls the hospital instead. He paces the hallway while he’s put on hold, once he’s told that Talan is still stable and sleeping he hangs up. 

Oliver is asleep in bed, over all the blankets but holding a pillow tightly over his head. Michael takes the extra blanket folded at the foot of his bed and covers Oliver with it. 

All of Oliver’s fries and half of his burger are gone. Michael quietly gathers the plates and puts them out in the hallway. He checks on Oliver again and turns off the lights. There’s nothing else for him to do and for a second he feels guilty for being there and not back at the hospital with Talan. 

The bag of things Ryan had brought for the both of them is on the floor by the bathroom door. Michael digs through it until he finds a change of clothes to sleep in and his toothbrush. He walks into the bathroom and closes the door halfway not wanting to be totally cut off from Oliver. 

It’s the first good look he gets at himself since showering in Costa Rica that morning and his reflection shocks him for a few seconds. His face is sad and his eyes are red and swollen. He looks older and miserable. He splashes cold water on his face to try and make it better but not much changes. 

He brushes his teeth and sets his toothbrush next to Oliver’s by the sink. He’s bone tired and as guilty as he feels about it, he can’t bring himself to go back to the hospital.

He tells himself that it’s for Oliver’s benefit but he knows it’s mostly because he doesn’t want to be with Ryan. 

He thinks briefly of calling his lawyer. If Ryan tries to prevent him from being with Talan again Michael wants options. 

“Dad?” Oliver calls out. 

“In here Bud.” Michael opens the bathroom door and walks out, “It’s okay.” 

Oliver stares at him groggily for a second before laying back down. Michael walks over to his bed. 

“Get under the blankets.” Michael tells him, “Come on.” 

Michael holds a corner of the blankets up and waits for Oliver to swing his legs under them. Once Oliver is covered up, Michael sits in one of the chairs and props his feet up on Oliver’s bed. 

“Don’t leave.” Oliver asks again. 

“I’m staying here.” Michael comforts, “I’m gonna go to bed too.” 

Oliver reaches back for his pillow and hugs it to his chest. 

“Can you keep the bathroom light on?” Oliver asks embarrassed, “It’s really dark.” 

“Yeah Bud.” Michael answers, “Today was scary.” 

Oliver nods and puts the pillow back over his face. 

“What you did was really brave.” Michael risks bringing it back up again, “You saved Tal.” 

Michael thinks of Oliver swimming out and being dragged under along with Talan and his heart drops into his stomach. He can’t imagine both boys being in critical condition and he doesn’t want to think of how close Ryan and him had been to losing both their people. Michael doesn’t want to envision his life without Talan and Oliver

“It’s okay to be scared.” Michael says again, hoping the message sinks in, “You’re okay though. You’re safe.” 

Oliver falls asleep almost right away but Michael doesn’t move from the chair for another hour. He waits until Oliver’s loosened his grip on the pillow to take it away from his face and put it down next to him. Oliver flips over on his stomach and mumbles something Michael can’t make out. 

Michael calls the hospital again. Talan’s blood pressure is low and they’ve put him back on oxygen. It’s hard to decide to stay at the hotel but Michael can’t leave Oliver. 

He falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow.

*

In the morning, Michael waits for Oliver to wake up. He calls the hospital and gets the same update. Talan had slept through the night and was still resting. 

Michael showers, changes and finds a change of clothes for Ryan. He opens the television, mutes the volume and watches the news for a bit. He changes the channel quickly because he finds it incredibly hard to care about anything other than his family. 

Michael doesn’t bother to check his email or his voicemail. He figures out the tiny hotel coffee maker and makes a fresh pot for both Oliver and himself. 

Oliver stirs awake just as Michael pours himself a cup and looks for milk. 

“Morning.” Michael calls out forgetting his cup by the television, “Wake up Bud.” 

Oliver pushes pillows and blankets away from him and rubs his face. He squints at the sunlight filtering through the curtains before focusing on Michael. 

“Coffee.” He says in greeting, “Please.” 

Michael takes the cup of coffee he’d poured for himself and walks over to hand it to Oliver. He watches Oliver closely looking for any sign that he might feel better. 

Oliver yawns, takes a sip of coffee and eyes Michael suspiciously. 

“Did you sleep good?” Michael walks back to pour himself another cup, “You didn’t wake up.” 

Oliver nods. 

“Shower and we can go grab breakfast.” Michael offers, “Or if you want to stay here-” 

“No.” Oliver refuses, “I want to go back.” 

“Okay.” Michael agrees, “Get ready, we’ll bring some breakfast to Dad.” 

“Then I can give blood?” Oliver asks, “At the hospital.” 

“Oliver.” Michael groans. “You hate needles.”

“I won’t look.” Oliver promises, “It’ll be okay.” 

Michael looks at Oliver and doesn’t have the heart to keep fighting him. He’s afraid of Oliver freaking out over a needle of Oliver not being able to go through with it. He knows how Oliver handles failure and doesn’t think he can deal with it right now. 

“Go shower.” Michael changes the subject, “Get dressed.” 

“How’s Talan?” Oliver asks carefully. 

“He’s okay.” Michael answers truthfully, “He just needs to get stronger. He’s still sleeping.”

Oliver nods, takes another sip of coffee and gets up. While he showers Michael unplugs his phone, packs his charger, Ryan’s clothes and Oliver’s book. He finds a few of Talan’s things in one of the bags Ryan had brought back from Costa Rica and decides to bring them to the hospital too. 

Oliver eats more breakfast than he’d eaten supper. They grab food and coffee to go for Ryan and Michael waits for Hilary to join them before leaving. 

“Um.” Oliver speaks up once they’re parked at the hospital. 

“What Bud?” Michael asks. “Do you want to go back? Aunt Hil can drive you to-” 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head. “I uh-” 

“Oliver.” Michael regrets bringing him, “Talk to me.” 

“I don’t wanna go up.” Oliver admits ashamed, “I don’t wanna like go to the ICU it’s… not-” 

“It’s okay.” Michael reassures, “I have to go up but-” 

“It’s not that I don’t wanna see him…” Oliver stammers, “ I just don’t wanna see him all…” He motions over his own body with his hands, “It’s scary.” 

“That’s fine.” Michael reassures again, “You can stay with grandma, I got your book.” 

Oliver nods relieved and Michael gets out of the car, walks over to Oliver’s side and opens his door. 

“Come on Bud.” He grabs Oliver’s sleeve and pulls him out, “Let’s go.” 

Michael leaves Hilary and Oliver by the elevator bank. He makes his way to the ICU alone and follows the blue floor tiles trying hard not to think of the wave that had almost killed Talan. 

The hotel had offered Michael a brief respite from the gravity of the situation. Walking through the glass doors of Talan’s room is like being submerged back into the thick of it. The reassuring answers from nurses he’d gotten throughout the night seem worthless now. 

He half expects Ryan to be asleep but Ryan is still sitting awake in the chair right next to Talan’s bed. 

“Hey.” Michael says briefly, not knowing where Ryan and him stand, “We got you breakfast, Oliver has it.” 

“Bruce made an appointment for him.” Ryan says, “With one of the psychs so he can get more meds or talk to someone… I don’t know. He’ll come back.” 

“Ok.” Michael agrees confused, “He’s doing better. He slept.” 

Ryan nods. 

“I called for news on him all night.” Michael says, “They said he was sleeping.”

Talan is still on his back. His hurt arm still braced across his chest and his hospital gown still just draped over his upper body. There’s an oxygen mask on his face and there seems to be more ivy bags then there’d been the night before. 

“He’s not feeling good.” Ryan warns Michael. “He had a good night but he woke up around six and he’s kinda restless… Think he has nightmares? He’s not talking but he’s holding my hand.” 

“Hey Baby.” Michael says quietly. He bends down to kiss Talan’s forehead, “You want to open your eyes for me?” 

Talan doesn’t answer.

“His red blood count is still low.” Ryan explains, “They’re giving him more blood. His energy’s at like zero. They said to just let him sleep.” 

“Yeah.” Michael brushes his hand against Talan’s hair. “You’re doing good.” 

Michael would give anything to trade places with Talan. It is gut wrenching to watch him hurt. The relief from the previous day feels wrong. 

“Bruce was here. Said for what he went through he’s doing good.” Ryan reassures, “Tough kid.” 

“Good boy Tal.” Michael soothes. 

Talan doesn’t acknowledge Michael’s words or his touch. His uninjured hand is still limply holding onto Ryan’s. His breaths seem shallow. 

“His oxygen level was low.” Ryan points to the mask, “He really hates it… He keeps trying to take it off you gotta like stop him. He’s kind of confused ‘bout where he is.”

Michael reaches to fix the elastic band of the oxygen mask so it lays smooth on Talan’s skin. Knowing that Talan is struggling hurts deep and he feels more helpless than he’d felt with Oliver. 

Ryan stretches his neck back until it cracks and rotates his shoulders back. He looks just as tired as he had the night before and Michael is suddenly ashamed that he’s rested and showered.

“You been here all night?” Michael asks. 

“Yeah.” Ryan yawns, “His blood pressure was low for a bit… They can’t do surgery on him again until it’s stable…. It’s from losing all that blood, they can’t have him lose more… So they’re gonna keep him in here until then. They’re gonna do another MRI when he’s gotten more blood.” 

“Who brought you clothes?” Michael asks again noticing that Ryan has changed. Looking more closely at his husband Michael also notices that he’s showered. 

“Caleb.” Ryan answers, “He spent the night here.” 

“Oh.” Michael has to force himself to keep his voice neutral. “I thought Dev-” 

The truth is that Michael hadn’t thought of Ryan. Hadn’t thought of who would sit with him, hadn’t even bothered to go tell Ryan’s family that he was leaving. He’d been angry enough to walk away without caring about Ryan. 

“He had to go home for Brady.” Ryan talks but doesn’t look away from Talan, “Caleb stayed with me.” 

“And got you clothes.” Michael breathes out, trying hard to not read too much into it. He tries hard not to think about the clothes he’d brought for Ryan. He tries not to remember how when he hadn’t been able to comfort Ryan, Ryan had sought out Caleb. 

“He threw up on me. I hadta change” Ryan dismisses. 

“Where d’you shower?” 

“There’s one for doctors.”

“So Caleb stayed with Tal?” 

“No Dev.” Ryan answers, “Caleb was with me.” 

“Oh.” It’s the only thing Michael allows himself to say. 

The silence that follows is heavy. The beep of the heart monitor has become so familiar that it almost fades into the background of hospital noise. It’s the one comforting reminder that Talan is okay. 

Michael doesn’t know if Talan is sleeping or unconscious from pain medication and whatever drowsiness is still lingering from anesthesia. 

All of Talan’s injuries are on his left side and Michael tries not to imagine him being thrown against jagged rocks and the bottom of the ocean. Most of the blood has been washed off his face but his hair is still stained. 

Talan grimaces, moans and tosses his head from side to side before settling down again. His face doesn’t relax. 

“S’ok Baby.” Ryan soothes, “You’re good.”

“Is he awake?” Michael moves to the head of the bed and takes over brushing Tal’s hair back and away from his face. 

“On and off.” Ryan guesses, “I think he’s sleeping now, he’s not squeezing my hand back.”

“He squeezes your hand?” Michael says relieved. 

“When he’s awake yeah but now he ain’t.” Ryan forces Michael’s hand off Talan’s forehead. “Don’t wake him up.” 

Michael knows he hasn’t been forgiven for the night before. Instead of fighting Ryan, he stops touching Talan and sits on the chair across the bed from Ryan.

“Ry-” 

“He feels sick.” Ryan defends himself and avoids looking at Michael. “He hurts when he’s awake so just let him sleep. Don’t freak him out again.” 

“Look, I’m sorry.” Michael tries apologizing, “I had to-” 

“He’s okay like this.” Ryan urges. “I told him he wouldn’t hurt.” 

“Ry.” Michael says again, he doesn’t bother reaching for him, “I don’t want him to hurt either. I just want him to walk.” 

“He wouldn’t have made it through the surgery to fix his pelvis so it’s still broken and he’d be in a ton of pain if they didn’t have him doped up. He’s not really gonna be awake ‘till they do the second surgery.”

All of the relief from the previous day is gone and Michael understands Ryan’s state of mind. Michael has had eight hours of relief while Ryan has had eight hours of watching Talan restlessly sleep. Ryan has had eight hours of nurses and doctors frowning at lab results. He’s had eight hours of being told that Talan was in too much pain to fully wake up. That Talan needed a second equally risky surgery. 

“Did they say when they would do it?” Michael asks, “When he’d be-” 

“No.” Ryan says shortly. 

Michael takes a deep breath. 

“Ry.” He says, “You have to sleep. Go to the hotel and I’ll stay with him.” 

“No.” Ryan refuses, “I’m not leaving.” 

“You said he won’t wake up so it’s okay. We’ll see when the surgeons wanna talk to us and then-” 

“I’m not leaving.” Ryan insists, “He asked me to stay. I stay.” 

They both watch Talan sleep. Ryan busies himself by fixing Tal’s blankets before reaching for some lip balm in his pocket and putting some on Talan’s dry lips. 

Talan’s colour is better, his skin is back to normal and his lips are no longer blue. Michael reaches to brush the back of his hand across Talan’s cheek and Ryan’s eyes snap up to look at him accusingly. 

“I can touch him.” Michael defends himself, “Stop.” 

“You freaked him out.” Ryan accuses, “He had nightmares.” 

Michael doesn’t know if he should feel guilty or if he should just brush it off as Ryan being dramatic. 

“He threw up?” Michael asks instead, “When?” 

“They said it happens with anesthesia sometimes.” Ryan explains, “He was upset.” 

“Did he ask for me?” Michael probes.

“I said you were with Oliver.” Ryan answers. 

“Hey.” Michael stops paying attention to Ryan and turns back to Talan, “I’m here babe. I’m sorry I left.” 

Talan is still for a moment before he turns his face to rest closer to Michael’s hand. 

“Good boy babe.” Michael encourages, “We love you. Squeeze dad’s hand if you’re hurting okay? We’ll fix it.” 

“He’s good.” Ryan says after waiting a few second. “Go back to sleep Tal, we got you.” 

Talan swallows and grimaces, he clears his throat and opens his eyes for a second. 

“Cold.” He says before closing his eyes.

“We’ll fix that.” Michael promises, “I’ll go.” 

Michael brushes his thumb against Talan’s face one more time before standing up. 

“They have warm ones.” Ryan calls out after him, “We have to meet with surgeons, is someone here to stay with him?” 

“Yeah.” Michael answers, “I’m sure we can find someone.” 

“Tell his nurse he’s cold.” Ryan talks again, “They’re checking his temperature.”

Michael doesn’t bother answering Ryan. He walks out into the main, incredibly quiet hallway of the ICU and makes his way to the nurses’ station. He catches the eyes of another set of parents. The mother smiles reassuringly at him and Michael can’t bring himself to smile back. He feels the same way he’d felt in the NICU with Oliver. He hadn’t wanted to talk to the other parents, hadn’t wanted to trade stories or hear sad news. He’d just wanted Oliver to get better and get home. 

He doesn’t want people who don’t know Talan to feed him fake reassurances. 

“Talan’s awake.” He tells the nurse, “He’s cold.” 

She walks ahead of him and Michael follows. He sees Caleb walking towards Talan’s room from the other direction. Caleb gets to Talan’s room before they do. When Michael walks in, Caleb has his hand on Ryan’s shoulder.

“How’s he feeling?” Caleb asks Ryan. 

“Not so hot.” Ryan answers before taking the blanket from the nurse and covering Talan with it. 

“He looks better.” Caleb notes, “Did he throw up again?” 

“No.” Ryan answers, “What they gave him helped.” 

“Good.” Caleb answers, “That’s good Babe.” 

Caleb leans over to kiss Talan’s face and Ryan doesn’t move to stop him. 

“How are his feet?” Caleb asks. 

“What about his feet?” Michael asks alarmed. 

“The neurologist came last night.” Ryan explains, “He can feel his feet, he can move his toes. They think it was swelling or the painkillers or he was confused about what-” 

“You didn’t tell me?” Michael accuses. “You didn’t call or- I was freaking out. You knew.” 

“I didn’t have my phone.” Ryan defends himself, “The nurse said she-” 

“They didn’t.” Michael says and his voice breaks despite his best effort. “Can we meet with them?” 

“I’ll stay with him.” Caleb offers, “Go eat and you have a meeting with his surgeon. He’ll be okay.” 

“We have a meeting with his surgeon?” Michael asks again almost desperately, “What even Ry?” 

“I was with-” 

“I need you to act like an adult.” Michael snaps, “Fu-” 

“My phone’s dead.” Ryan glares at Michael, “I was with Tal. I can’t have my phone on in the ICU so it’s charging in the waiting room. Then I was gonna tell you when you came in but Tal woke up an he was sick and I forgot. I haven’t slept. He’s hurt. I have doctors talking to me and I don’t know what they’re saying.”

“Hey.” Caleb steps between Michael and Ryan and rests a hand on Ryan’s shoulder, “It’s okay. Mike he really didn’t mean to, we asked a nurse and she-” 

“Fine.” Michael says a few hundred times quieter than he wants to be, “You wanted to tell me.” 

“He’s been up-” Caleb comes to Ryan’s defense again. 

“I’m talking to Ryan.” Michael tells Caleb, fed up with his never-ending support of Ryan, “He’s not one of your kids. Let us talk.” 

Caleb doesn’t leave. He moves out of the way but stays close to Talan. 

“What time are we meeting his surgeon?” Michael asks Ryan. 

“Eleven.” Ryan says, “After Tal’s MRI. He’s going once his blood transfusion’s done.” 

“Do we go with him?” 

“Um no.” Ryan answers, “We can’t.” 

“We brought you food.” Michael reminds Ryan, forcing himself to be nice “Oliver is downstairs.” 

Michael desperately wants to take Ryan away from Caleb. For the first time in all their years of friendships he feels uneasy about their relationship. For a second he wishes he’d followed up on his instincts and called his lawyer. 

“Okay.” Ryan agrees. “I just gotta tell him.”

“We’ll be back Tal.” Michael says gently. “I’ll send grandma up.” 

“You’re getting food through a tube.” Ryan explains to Talan who doesn’t show any sign that he’s listening, “But I’m not… so I’m gonna go eat and you have to go to an MRI. It doesn’t hurt but there’s weird noises. We’ll be back right after okay?” Ryan pauses. 

Ryan brushes his hand against Talan’s face and Talan’s eyes blink open for a second. He nods faintly at Ryan before closing them again. 

“You warm Baby?” Ryan asks and waits for Talan to nod again, “Ok good.” 

Ryan stands up and relinquishes his seat to Caleb who immediately takes Talan’s hand. 

“My mom’s here.” Michael tells Caleb, “I’ll send her up to stay with him.” 

Outside of Talan’s room, Michael and Ryan fall in step side by side walking down the ICU hallway.

“Hate this floor.” Ryan mumbles. 

“Me too.” Michael agrees. 

Ryan reaches out for him and his touch comes as a surprise. Michael lets Ryan rest his hand on his back. 

They meet with the surgery team in a too bright boardroom. They’re shown MRI scans of Talan’s injuries and a 3D computer model demonstrates how the operation should go. A best-case scenario involves months of rehab to regain the ability to walk. 

The surgery is tentatively scheduled for the next morning and the team leaves Michael and Ryan alone in the room with the MRI scans. 

It’s a tough reality to accept. Michael pinches the bridge of his nose and bows his head. He tries hard not to cry. 

“He’ll walk.” Ryan says softly, his hand returning to rest against Michael’s back, “We’ll take him home. It’s gonna be a few months but he’ll be back to normal.”

“He plays basketball Ry.” Michael coughs out, “He’s-” 

“I know but like we get to take him home you know?” Ryan leans over and kisses Michael’s shoulder. He settles himself closer to Michael and rests his forehead against him. “He’s gonna be okay.”

Michael reaches to hold onto Ryan’s arm to keep him near trying to get any kind of comfort from being physically close. He leans back against him in a sort of awkward backwards hug. When he moves his head to kiss Ryan’s bicep, he notices a piece of medical tape holding a cotton ball over the slightly bruised inside of his elbow.

“What’s up with your arm?” Michael asks. 

“Gave blood for Tal.” Ryan explains, “For his surgery. Bruce said we could designate a donor so I gave blood and Dev did too. We freaked out so bad about the blood in Costa Rica it’s nice to know he’s getting it from us.”

Michael runs his thumb over the bandage and thinks of Oliver still insisting on doing the same thing. He wishes he could give a part of himself to Talan also. 

“We should go back to Tal.” Ryan says, “I don’t like not being with him.” 

“No.” Michael refuses, “You have to eat. Especially if you gave blood Ry come on.” 

“I wanted to like give more.” Ryan admits, “They wouldn’t let me. I’ll try again-” 

“No.” Michael refuses. 

Ryan stares at him for a second before fully standing up and stretching. He walks around the room to stare at Talan’s MRI scan. 

“He’d think these are cool.” Ryan notes.

Michael wants to shake Ryan and get him to understand that this isn’t an easy fix. That it’s not a risk free surgery. He wants to knock Ryan’s ever-present optimism out of the situation and get him to focus on the reality at hand. 

“Ols wanted to give blood too.” Ryan remembers, “We should take him.” 

“Oliver’s not giving blood.” Michael decides, “I’m not letting him. Don’t talk to him about it.” 

Ryan looks hurt. He walks away from the wall and heads to leave the room. 

“I wanna eat fast.” Ryan warns, “If Tal wakes up again I wanna be there.” 

Oliver isn’t in the waiting when they go to get him. A voicemail from Hilary tells Michael that they’d gone back to the hotel. The hospital had been too much for Oliver to handle. 

“Bruce can give him more meds.” Ryan suggests, “They helped yesterday.” 

“I don’t want him on more meds.” Michael snaps, “I want him to be okay.” 

They can’t seem to talk to each other without getting angry and it’s exhausting. Michael chooses to stay silent and Ryan does the same. 

Michael has already eaten breakfast and so he just grabs another coffee. He walks through the line with Ryan and watches him look over all the food offerings before grabbing some cereal, a carton of milk and a banana. 

Neither of them have cash so they have to pay for their breakfast with a credit card. It isn’t until they’re sitting down that Ryan speaks again. 

“I think Ols should go home with Caleb.” 

“No.” Michael answers shortly, “No way.” 

“’Stead of being at the hospital and at the hotel and not knowing who’s coming back or who’s staying with him he’d be with the same people.” Ryan talks, “He’d get like full meals and Nate’s there to hang out with him. There’s dogs and Bruce can keep an eye on him.” 

“He’s fine.” Michael insists.

“He’s not.” Ryan argues.

“How d’you know?” Michael challenges, “You didn’t even ask.” 

Ryan stirs his cereal with his plastic spoon but doesn’t look up. 

“He’s been in hotels for like months.” Ryan says simply, “He needs to be home. Their house is like home to him.” 

Michael knows Ryan is right but Michael can also guess that half of Ryan’s speech was probably taken from Caleb. 

“If he needs the meds he should take them.” Ryan keeps arguing, “If the doctor says he needs then he needs them.” 

Ryan takes another bite of cereal. He takes a long sip of coffee and finally looks at Michael. 

“I’m gonna go back up.” Ryan says before Michael can answer. “I don’t want Tal to wake up without us.” 

*

Talan sleeps through most of the day. He groggily wakes up every now and then and is soothed back to sleep every time. Ryan doesn’t leave his side but Michael leaves the ICU every half hour to call and check up on Oliver. 

When Michael calls after lunchtime, Oliver is sleeping. He tells Hilary about the psychiatrist appointment and Hilary agrees to try and get Oliver to return to the hospital. 

Ike and Debbie come to stay with Talan to allow Ryan and Michael to go meet with the doctor Bruce had chosen for Oliver.

“If he needs meds.” Ryan warns as they get into the elevator, “Just- they help him for now. He won’t be on ‘em forever” 

Michael doesn’t like the idea of Oliver being on more medication but he also doesn’t like thinking of Oliver being in distress. 

“Whatever they say.” Michael agrees, “If it’s good for him.”

The doctor’s office is warmer than the ICU and the floor is considerably noisier. It feels more familiar but Oliver sits between the two of them in complete silence. He folds and refolds what Michael figures out is a Sea World pamphlet and hardly ever looks up.

“Gator it’s okay.” Ryan whispers to him before he reaches out to still Oliver’s hands, “We’ll fix it. Come on stop.”

Oliver reluctantly looks up. 

“What school did he graduate from?” Ryan points to the diplomas on the wall. 

“Columbia.” Oliver reads. 

“Where’s that?” Ryan asks again. 

“New York.” Oliver says sounding annoyed, “Stop.” 

“Ry.” Michael warns. 

“No.” Ryan refuses, “When he’s quiet and staring he’s thinking about whatever’s making him not okay. We gotta like force him to think about other stuff. It ain’t easy for him but it’s gotta-” 

“I don’t wanna be here.” Oliver speaks up, “I wanna leave.” 

“Bud-” Michael turns to him. 

“Gator.” Ryan says at the same time. 

Both Michael and Ryan stop talking to allow the other to continue. Oliver speaks up first. 

“I wanna leave.” Oliver says again and his voice is slightly more panicked. 

“Okay.” Michael agrees, “Okay we can leave.” 

Oliver is out of the office before Michael and Ryan are out of the room. When they walk out of the office Oliver is already halfway down the hall. Michael picks up the pace and jobs to reach him faster.

Oliver is forced to wait for them when he’s met with locked doors and a nurse who won’t buzz him out. 

“It’s a locked floor.” She tells Michael. 

“Thank you.” Michael turns to her before reaching for Oliver’s arm. 

Oliver violently shrugs him off. 

“Sorry Ols.” Michael apologizes, “We’re leaving, calm down.” 

Ryan catches up to them and grabs the hem of Oliver’s t-shirt. Oliver doesn’t fight back against his shirt being held. 

Oliver calms down considerably once they’re in the elevator and visibly relaxes once they’re outside. He sits on the steps in front of the hospital and hugs his knees. His hair is soaked with sweat. 

Ryan sits a few steps behind him and Michael drops down beside him. Hilary sits on the step in front of them. 

“I was waiting by the doors. I saw him run out.” She explains, “I’ll stay with him. We’ll go for a walk.” 

Worrying about Oliver on top of worrying about Talan makes Michael’s stomach ache. He can’t imagine what impression Oliver has left on the doctor by running away and he spends the entire walk back into the hospital worried that Oliver will be admitted too. 

Oliver isn’t admitted. The doctor assures them that Oliver’s behavior is normal for someone who’s been through emotional trauma. 

“He needs stability.” The doctor reiterates Bruce’s diagnosis from yesterday, “I don’t recommend leaving him alone. The hospital has maybe become a trigger for him. His immune system might be lowered; he needs rests and proper meals. I can prescribe something to help him out for the next few days and refer him back to someone closer to home. He needs calm and familiarity.” 

Michael and Ryan leave his office with no real plan. Both of them are anxious to get back to Talan but they go and meet with Hilary and Oliver who are sitting in a grassy area across the street from the hospital. 

“I can take him home.” Hilary offers from her side of the picnic table, “To your house or we can fly back-” 

“No.” Michael refuses, “That’s-”

“Too far.” Ryan finishes.

“The hotel isn’t working.” Hilary admits, “Your friends, can they take him?” 

“He’ll be fine with Caleb and Bruce.” Ryan says again, “I’ve been saying- They’re twenty minutes away Mike. Bruce can keep an eye on him.” 

Michael can’t think of another option. Oliver can’t go back home to Daytona and Michael isn’t about to let Hilary or his mother take Oliver to Baltimore. They can’t have him stay at the hotel and know no one else in the area.

“Fine.” Michael agrees. “He can go and we can take turns going with him. Eat dinner or sleep.”

“He’ll be good there.” Ryan agrees, “I’ll-” 

“I’ll call Bruce.” Michael interrupts, still unsure about the renewed closeness between Ryan and Caleb. “Go see Tal, I’ll be up once it’s figured out.” 

“No.” Ryan narrows his eyes, “I’ll stay ‘till we know where Gator’s off to.” 

There’s a forgotten tennis ball in the grass and Ryan picks it up. 

“Gator.” Ryan throws the ball up in the air a few times, “Catch.” 

Ryan throws the ball at Oliver with less force than he normally would. Oliver fumbles to catch it but manages to get it before it hits the ground. 

“Throw it back.” Ryan encourages.

“I know.” Oliver rolls his eyes.  
Oliver’s aim is off but Ryan catches it anyways. They throw it back and forth until Michael walks back towards them. 

“Caleb’s coming to get you. He’ll pick you up at the hotel” Michael tells Oliver, “Bruce is going to take you once he’s heading home.” He continues to tell Ryan.

“No.” Ryan refuses, “I’m-” 

“You didn’t sleep.” Michael says, “You have to sleep. You spend the night with Tal tomorrow.” 

For a second, Ryan looks like he’s about to get mad. He narrows his eyes ready to refuse Michael’s schedule.

“Is Tal okay?” Oliver asks quietly. 

“Yeah.” Ryan’s face softens, “He’s good Gator. He can move his feet.” 

“That’s good.” Oliver nods, “When are we going?” 

“ You’re gonna go in a bit.” Michael tells him again, “Dad’s gonna be there after dinner.” 

“Do you want to see Tal before you leave?” Ryan asks, “He’s just sleeping Oliver it’s not scary.” 

“No.” Oliver refuses. “I just want to go.” 

Oliver doesn’t seem upset to be leaving them. He hugs Michael briefly and lets himself be held for a second. 

“I’m okay.” Oliver reassures, “I want to go.”

“Call me.” Michael keeps holding onto him, “Eat dinner.” 

Oliver nods. 

“Get some sleep okay?” Michael brushes back Oliver’s hair, “Maybe go for a run. Watch a movie?” 

Oliver nods again. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Michael promises, “I’ll go eat dinner with you.” 

Oliver doesn’t reach out to hug Ryan. He stays in front of Michael while Michael hands the prescription to Hilary and instructs her to give it to Caleb. 

Oliver waves at both of them before he follows Hilary towards the parking lot. Michael and Ryan go back inside. 

*

Talan’s vitals get increasingly stronger as the day goes on. His blood pressure stays steady and he slowly becomes more alert. By the time Ryan leaves with Bruce, Talan is propped up by pillows and is awake enough to talk. 

“I’ll be back.” Ryan reassures. “You’re just going to sleep and I’ll be here when you wake up.” 

“Bring Hoops.” Talan asks, “’An Ols.”

“I’ll try Baby.” Ryan says before kissing Talan’s cheek, “Sleep good okay?” 

Talan nods and closes his eyes. Ryan takes a step from the bed but hesitates leaving. 

“I got him Ry.” Michael reassures, “He’s good.” 

Michael isn’t sold on the idea of sending Ryan to spend more time with Caleb. He forces it out of his mind though and focuses on sending Ryan to look after Oliver and of sending Ryan to sleep. He figures that after a night of rest Ryan might make more sense, might be able to handle things better. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Ryan says taking another step closer to the door.

“It’s okay to leave Ry.” Michael reassures once again, “He’s just going to sleep.”

“Yeah I know, I just-” 

For a second Michael thinks that Ryan isn’t going to go but Ryan walks back towards the bed. He kisses Talan’s face one more time and when Talan doesn’t wake up, Ryan takes a step to lean down and kiss Michael. 

“Here.” Ryan hands over his tube of chapstick, “His lips get dry.” 

There’s no I love you and it strangely feels normal. Instead of watching Ryan leave Michael focuses back on Talan. 

Talan keeps his eyes closed until the nurse comes in to check his vital. She takes his temperature and Talan wakes up. 

“Hi.” Talan tells the nurse, “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome sweetie.” She tells him before putting the thermometer back in her pocket. “I’m just gonna check your staples okay?”  
She carefully moves Talan’s injured arm out of its brace and rests it lower against his stomach. She pushes his hospital gown down, removes the gauze and looks over the staples. 

“Everything looks good.” She says cheerfully, “We’ll just change the dressing.” 

Talan’s eyes follow her hands and Michael does the same. He keeps expecting Talan to wince in pain or jump away from her touch but Talan just goes back to sleep. 

“He’ll sleep through the night again.” The nurse reassures Michael, “Everything still looks good for tomorrow.” 

The nurse finishes redressing Tal’s chest, pulls his gown back up and slips his arm back into the brace. 

“We’ll keep an eye on him if you want to go get some sleep.” She offers. 

“No.” Michael refuses, “I’m staying here.” 

“We have good coffee in the nurses’ station out in the hall.” She admits, “It’s a secret but we don’t mind-” 

“Don’t say that too loud.” Michael warns her, “He loves coffee.” 

“Oh.” She checks Talan’s blood pressure cuff and presses a few buttons on his infusion pump, “When he feels better maybe.” 

“Shh.” Talan says, not opening his eyes, “Stop.”

“Sorry Sweetie.” The nurse apologizes, “How’s your pain?” 

“One.” Talan answers. “S’ok.” 

Talan opens his eyes again once the nurse leaves the room. He holds out his hand to Michael and squeezes Michael’s hand when he holds it. 

“Sure you’re not hurting more?” Michael asks, suddenly remembering Ryan’s dislike for pain medication and wondering if it’s been passed down, “If you need more just say it Tal.”

“I’m not.” Talan insists. “Where’s Dad?” 

“He had to go sleep.” Michael explains, “He went to see Oliver.” 

“Where’s Oliver?” Talan asks. 

“With Uncle Bruce and Uncle Caleb.” Michael keeps explaining, “He’s okay.” 

Talan nods and shifts around in bed. He fights with his blanket until he manages to get it settled around his stomach. He rests back against his pillows but still looks restless. 

"What's bothering you?" Michael asks, "I'll fix it. Do you want the nurse?"

"No." Talan answers quickly. "No." 

"Do you want to sit up?" Michael tries, "Water?" 

He offers water without thinking that maybe Talan isn't allowed to drink.

“I hurt.” Talan whines. 

“We’ll get your nurse back.” Michael says alarmed. “It’ll stop hurting.” 

"Not the nurse." Talan complains.

"Not your choice Babe." Michael apologizes, "She has the pain meds."

He leans over Talan to hit the call button and waits. The nurse comes back in and leaves again. She returns with a syringe that she injects directly into a port on the back of Talan’s hand. 

“That should start working quickly.” She says, “He’ll fall back asleep.” 

Michael watches Talan and waits for his face to relax, once again. Talan’s eyes open just as the nurse walks out of his room. 

“It’s gonna go away.” Michael promises. 

Michael rubs his thumb against the wrinkles on Tal’s forehead. He grabs the chapstick from his pocket and puts more on Talan’s lips in an effort to make him feel better. He wonders briefly if he should call Ryan. 

“Can you get in here with me?” Talan asks, “Like there’s room.” 

“Yeah Babe.” Michael answers right away, “I think it’s okay.” 

Michael doesn’t want to take the time and check with the nurse. He remembers how it had felt to only be allowed to hold Talan’s hand or touch his foot. He remembers how scared Talan had been before surgery and how sick he had been once awake. He gets up from his chair, kicks off his shoes and tries to figure out how to get in bed without moving Talan. 

Michael carefully settles himself into the empty space beside Talan’s right side. He grabs a pillow and puts it up against his side. 

“Move slow alright?” Michael tells Talan, waiting for his son to lean against him, “Watch all your wires. Hold up. Don’t move. I’ll move.” 

Michael moves to make sure he’s not pressing against any of the tubes connected to Talan. Once he’s sure that he’s not preventing pain medication from getting to his son he rests against the bed and lets Talan inch himself back closer to him. 

Talan usually smells like sunscreen, gum and something else that always vaguely reminds Michael of Ryan. When Talan settles himself against Michael, he smells like antiseptic, rubbing alcohol and hospital bed sheets. 

“Thanks.” Talan whispers, resting his head against Michael. “I’m kinda scared.”

“It was scary for me too.” Michael admits, “But you’re okay.” 

“I shoulda played golf.” Talan complains. 

“Don’t worry.” Michael tries to hold Talan as best he can. “They’re gonna fix your hips tomorrow and you’ll be better.” 

“How?” Talan asks confused. 

“Surgery.” Michael decides to tell him, “You’re gonna be asleep and they’re going to fix what’s broken and you’ll wake up.”

“Hey no.” Talan frowns, “No.” 

“You’re gonna be okay.” Michael insists, “You have good doctors and dad and me, we’ll be there when you wake up.” 

“Scared.” Talan closes his eyes and tears squeeze out, “No.” 

“Babe.” Michael uses his fingers to wipe Talan’s tears away, “You’re gonna be okay.” 

Talan shakes his head and refuses to open his eyes, he leans his face against Michael’s hand. Michael sits up and turns towards Talan. He wipes more tears off his son's face.

“I know it’s scary.” Michael agrees, “But you just have be tough one more time okay? We love you.” 

Talan’s first sob escapes. 

“Dad’s gonna be with you.” Michael keeps talking, “You’re gonna fall asleep and Dad’s going to be there and we’ll be here when you wake up.” 

Talan loops his arm around Michael’s neck and hangs onto him as hard as he can. He presses his face against his dad and cries against his shirt. 

“It’s just like Oliver.” Michael soothes, rubbing circles on Talan’s back to try and comfort him, “It’s just tiny little holes, remember his shoulder?” 

Talan’s face feels hot against Michael’s shoulder and Michael tries in vain to think of words to make Talan feel less scared. 

“After you won’t be on as many pain killers.” Michael offers, “You’re gonna be able to be in a regular room and everyone can come see you. Ols can come seem you and then you can come home.” 

Michael doesn’t bother to give Talan a time frame on his homecoming. He keeps rubbing his son’s back and waits to see if Talan will calm down. He doesn’t. 

“It’s not going to be scary.” Michael reassures, “You’re going to have a lot of blankets and Dad is going to be there with you until you fall asleep. He’s gonna hold your hand and we’re both going to be waiting with you when you wake up. We’re gonna wait with everyone downstairs. You’re gonna be okay.” 

Talan shakes his head. 

“Pal.” Michael brushes a hand through Tal’s hair before kissing his head. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you.” 

“I-” Talan hiccups, “Don’t wanna die.” 

Michael kisses Tal’s head again before pressing his cheek against Talan’s hair. He holds him close and keeps rubbing his back. He’s tempted to call in the surgeon and cancel the surgery and go with the option of waiting a few more days. He wants to wait until Talan is stronger and feeling better. He wants to be able to explain it to Talan and have him understand what’s going on. 

“Baby.” Michael says again, “You’re not gonna die.” 

Talan doesn’t let go of him or raise his head to look at Michael but he nods against Michael’s shoulder. 

“They have to go in and fix the bones that are broken. They’re not touching your heart or your lungs or your stomach… It’s just your pelvis which is kind of close to your hips and that’s your last surgery.”

“I’m scared.” Talan says again.

“It’s okay.” Michael comforts, “I’m here.” 

Talan tugs Michael back against his pillows and leans against him again. 

“You’re good Tal Pal.” Michael reassures, “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you.”

“I wanna go home.” Talan complains.

“I know.” Michael answers. “When you’re better.”

Talan’s last dose of painkillers makes him drowsy enough to sleep. He leans heavily against Michael and after a few minutes of listening to Talan’s breathing even out Michael falls asleep too. 

*

“Mike.”

Michael opens his eyes and Talan is still in the same position. He’s warm and the heart monitor’s beeps are suddenly more annoying than ever before. 

“Mike.” Ryan says again.

“Sorry.” Michael apologizes, “He was scared.” 

Michael carefully moves away from Talan, he makes sure that all the wires and tubes are still connected before moving to the chair right by the bed. He stretches and rests his hand on Ryan’s back. 

Ryan sits on the armrest of Michael’s chair. He’s showered and changed and Michael notices he’s holding a bag of extra clothes. 

“What about?” Ryan worries.

“Surgery.” Michael answers, “He was upset.” 

Michael watches Ryan’s eyes focus on Talan. Like he might be able to tell what’s wrong just by looking at him. Talan and Ryan have always been kind of the same person and Michael understands that not knowing everything that’s wrong with Talan is killing his husband. 

He tries to keep reminding himself that Ryan, like Oliver, had seen it happen. That Ryan had been on a beach with no real medical help. Ryan had watched Talan suffer through a great deal of pain and hadn’t been able to help him. 

Ryan reaches forward towards the bed but stops short of touching Talan. 

“How long’s he been sleeping?” Ryan asks. 

“I don’t know.” Michael yawns and stretches his arms again before craning his neck to look at his watch, “Awhile, five hours?” 

“He might still be sleeping when they take him into surgery.” Ryan guesses, “If he’s scared that might be okay. Better for him.” 

“He calmed down before he went to sleep.” Michael assures, “He’s just scared… Oliver was scared too.” 

“Bruce said sometimes kids are more emotional after surgery, ‘cause of the meds.” Ryan fixes Talan’s blankets almost automatically. “Like he went through a lot and was scared? Was he okay?” 

“Yeah his pain meds put him to sleep.” Michael yawns, “I said you were gonna go in with him tomorrow, until he’s asleep.”

Ryan nods. 

“That made him feel better.” Michael reassures, “Said you’d be there when he fell asleep and we’d be there when he woke up.” 

“I hate that he’s scared.” Ryan’s voice is small, “I don’t want him scared.” 

“Me neither Ry.” 

There’s no quiet in the ICU. Nurses walk outside and they can hear pagers go off and phones ringing. Talan’s monitors beep regularly and a nurse walks in to check on him every few minutes. 

“How’s Ols?” Michael questions.

“He tried to give blood.” Ryan admits, “While we were with Tal this morning. He went with Hil and he couldn’t do it. The needle and he got scared. They were nice to him, told him there was enough and it was okay but he wasn’t okay. He didn’t tell the shrink who talked to him.” 

Michael groans. 

“He ate dinner.” Ryan answers, “He was better once the meds kicked in, he played video games. He was sleeping when I left. We watched some baseball. Orioles won.” 

“Why d’you leave?” Michael asks, not because he’s worried about Oliver but because he’s worried about Ryan, “Did you drive?” 

“I wanted to be here when they took Tal to surgery. Didn’t want to miss it.”

“D’you sleep?” Michael asks. 

Ryan shrugs. 

“Ry.” Michael says exasperated. “You drove?” 

“I’ll sleep here.” Ryan points to the spare chair.“I wanted to be here with him. Tomorrow’s risky yeah? Like he’s already lost a ton of blood and his heart’s kinda- There’s veins and stuff it could go bad.” 

“Don’t Ry.” Michael half begs. 

“I want to be here.” Ryan asserts before reaching to touch Talan, “I gotta be with him. I’m sorry I left Ols I just-” 

“No I get it.” Michael brushes off, “Ols is fine.” 

His anger with Caleb aside, Michael is confident that Oliver is being taken care of. 

“I just hadta be here.” Ryan repeats. “If he’s scared.”

“I’m scared too.” Michael risks admitting, he loops his arm around Ryan’s waist and pulls him in closer. 

“I just want him to be okay.” Ryan breathes, “S’why I don’t care if we gotta bring him home in a wheelchair. I can’t like-” 

“You’re scared.” Michael summarizes. Fear is an emotion Ryan’s never easily admitted to. 

Ryan nods. He pulls the hospital gown higher over Talan’s chest and Talan shifts. Ryan drops his hand away. 

“There’s still room.” Michael points out to Talan’s bed. “He wanted me to get in with him, you can hold him.” 

“I don’t wanna wake him up.” Ryan shrugs off, “Or hurt him it’s-” 

“It’s okay Ry.” Michael says and he’s sick and tired of using the word because nothing about the situation can be further from okay, “He’s scared, he needs like… us.” 

Ryan is exceedingly careful. He takes off his shoes and slowly eases his way down against the bed until he’s resting next to Talan. 

“I’m not like on anything?” Ryan asks worriedly, “Everything’s still okay?”

“You’re good.” Michael reassures. “He’s good.” 

Talan can’t move much, but he moves the extra inch to lean against Ryan. He moves his face until it’s pressed against Ryan’s shoulder. 

“Hi.” Talan mumbles

“Sleep Baby.” Ryan whispers, he leans his head against Talan’s and pulls the blankets up higher over him. “Sorry I woke you up. You’re good. I’m here.” 

“Don’t go.” Talan asks. 

“Nah.” Ryan calms, “Not leaving again Baby.” 

Michael suddenly feels out of place. He can’t fall back asleep. He watches Ryan doze off and keeps an eye on Talan. He wants to call and check up on Oliver but doesn’t want to wake up anyone else in the house. He leaves the room to walk and clear his head. He finds a bathroom, splashes cold water on his face and tries to remember what the plan had originally been. How everything between Ryan and him had seemed so much more hopeful in Costa Rica. 

Michael gets back to Talan’s room and Ryan is still sleeping. One of his arms wrapped protectively around Talan. 

Michael can’t bring himself to call his lawyer. 

*


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this took over a month to get to you. It was as infuriating for me too because I want to see this story move on just as much as you do.
> 
> I want to say thank you to everyone who is still reading, especially people who've passed on the word to others and brought in readers from different fandoms. It means so much to me that so many people love these characters. 
> 
> I also want to say thank you to everyone who gets me through these long pauses by letting me talk to them about what's going on inside my head. As always, a huge thanks you to mugglemiranda for reading my fics five lines at a time and being honest enough to tell me when I've gone off the deep end. She makes small suggestions that end up enriching characters immensely and this fic would not exist today if she hadn't spent two years listening to me talk about it. 
> 
> I hope you like it.

Talan is still sleeping when they wheel him in for surgery. Ryan gowns up to follow him into the operating room anyways but Talan is too groggy to notice or care. Talan’s eyes open when a nurse talks to him and settle on Ryan once she’s out of his sight. 

“Morning Baby.” Ryan smiles at his son from behind his surgical mask, like Talan is two and not fifteen, “You got a pretty easy day you’re just gonna go back to sleep.” 

“Hungry.” Talan complains. 

“Dude.” Ryan desperately wants to be allowed to touch his kid, “When you wake up you get anything you want yeah? You warm enough?”

“Yeah.” Talan nods, “Stay.” 

“’Course.” Ryan reassures. 

Ryan stays until Talan’s eyes close again. He tries not to think of the list of negative outcomes the doctors had listed during their meeting yesterday. He tries not to look at the tools covered by the blue surgical drape. He tries to focus on Talan and reassures himself that at the end of the day this is the same as Oliver’s shoulder surgery. This surgery is about bones and not about vital organs. He reminds himself that if Talan weren’t strong enough the doctors would have waited. 

“Sir.” A nurse touches his arm, “They’re ready to start, it’s time to leave.” 

Ryan looks up at the screen displaying Talan’s vital signs. He focuses on his heartbeat and tries to imprint the image of the steady line in his mind. 

“We love you.” He whispers to Talan, “Be tough.” 

“We’re going to take care of Talan.” The nurse promises, “This way, you can throw out your gown in-” 

“He was really scared.” Ryan tells her as he takes off his mask and gown and shoves them in the garbage can she’s pointing to. 

“He’s going to wake up in recovery with you and your wife.” The nurse comforts, “He’ll feel safe.”

Ryan doesn’t bother to correct her.

Out in the hallway, Ryan can’t avoid feeling like he’s just abandoned Talan. He tries to remember the steadiness of the heart monitor but can’t help to think that at any minute it could stop. That at any minute his kid who’d been dragged in the ocean and slammed against rocks could stop breathing. That he could loose too much blood and crash that his heart could stop and be too damaged to start again. 

Ryan refuses to walk back into the waiting room. He refuses to show Michael that he doesn’t have things under control. That he can’t be strong for Oliver or find some reserve of composure deep within him to be able to offer support to anyone. 

He slides down the wall to sit on the floor. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and tries hard to regain his composure. He can’t. 

His arm is still bruised from donating blood. He flexes his hand a few times and his arm hurts. The pain feels real but isn’t strong enough to distract him from how his heart and his chest feel like they’re about to explode. 

Ryan can usually tell how Talan feels. Can gauge his mood from being in the same room as him or from which cereal he chooses to eat for breakfast. Talan and him have traditions and inside jokes and for the past two days Talan hasn’t been Talan. For the past two days Talan’s been sick and weak. Talan hasn’t been talking. Ryan can’t gauge how Talan feels. 

There are feet and gurneys going by him and no one stops. Ryan clears his throat and wipes his eyes again. He knows he should get up, that people are waiting for him a few floor down, that their entire family will worry something went wrong if he doesn’t show up. 

He can’t pull himself together. He takes a deep breath and it does nothing. He closes his eyes and sees Talan bleeding on the beach. He hears Talan whining in pain when his extra dose of pain medication had worn off. He sees his kid half dead in the back of an ambulance. 

Ryan’s chest feels too tight. He tries to take a deep breath to stop himself from crying but another sob comes out. He can’t ever remember crying this hard in public. He hides his face into the crook of his arm and gives up trying to get it together. He’s here for Talan, not for Michael or Michael’s family. Ryan doesn’t care about what he’s supposed to do. Can’t make himself go back down to a room full of people who don’t know Michael and him are fighting. 

Someone slides down the wall to sit beside him. Their shoulders, hips and knees press up against his and Ryan tries again to get it together. 

The person’s shoulders line up with his and Ryan knows it isn’t Michael. 

“Ry.” Devon’s voice is soft, “Come on. Let’s go back to-” 

“No.” Ryan manages to say, “I can’t.” 

“Mike?” Devon asks, “He’s in the waiting room and like you guys can-” 

“No.” Ryan sniffs, “We ain’t.” 

“Okay.” Devon doesn’t understand. “Let’s just go somewhere else. Off the floor.” 

Devon gets up and pulls at the sleeve of Ryan’s shirt. When Ryan stands up Devon keeps a tight grip on his arm. 

“D’you sleep last night?” Devon asks guiding Ryan through hospital hallways. 

“Not really.” Ryan shrugs, “I was with Ols and I came back to be with Tal. I got like an hour. I’m okay.” 

“You an Mike should go back to the hotel.” Devon suggests, “Get like a few hours until Tal’s out. We’re all here waiting we got Tal man.” 

“No.” Ryan refuses.

“I get it.” Devon squeezes Ryan’s arm. 

Ryan’s tired of hospital hallways. Tired of the different coloured floor tiles that indicate which floor he’s on. Tired of the constant pages and the colour of the scrubs. He’s tired of staring at muted colours and other sad faces. He lets Devon pull him along and tries to remember Talan’s heart beat on the monitor. 

“Missed it.” Devon calls out. 

Ryan blinks back to reality and sees the elevator doors close the final inch a foot away from them. He watches Devon jam his fingers against the down button again and yawns. 

“That guy totally saw us too.” Devon grumbles, “Asshole.” 

“Don’t matter got nowhere to go.” Ryan says. 

“Um yeah.” Devon has no real idea about where to take Ryan, “Mom’s worried, so’s like Kristin and I gotta show ‘em you’re with me so we gotta go back but you don’t wanna be with Mike so-” 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods, “We’re not.” 

“You guys can’t like-” Devon tries, “This is hard but you gotta be together you know?” 

Ryan isn’t ready to get into his marital problems with Devon. Not ready to get into it with anyone really. 

“How’s Brady?” Ryan asks to change the subject. 

“It’s tough.” Devon admits, “He’s at home with C’s parents, I don’t think he gets how bad it was… I call him when there’s news.” 

The elevator behind them arrives and Ryan doesn’t get to ask follow up questions about his nephew’s well being. He walks ahead of Devon to catch the doors before they close. He motions for Devon to get in first and follows him. 

“He should come see Tal.” Ryan decides, “Tal’s gonna wanna see him.” 

Devon doesn’t answer because he doesn’t know if Brady really wants to see Talan hurt and in a hospital bed. He’s pretty sure that his fifteen year old who’d cried at the news isn’t ready to see his best friend right out of surgery. 

“When Tal’s feeling up for it.” Devon says carefully, “Brady’s okay at home.” 

The elevator stops and a crowd of people get in. Ryan and Devon are pushed to the very back of the elevator and stop talking. 

“Tal was okay.” Ryan says, whispering so no one else overhears. “He wasn’t scared.” 

“Yeah ‘cause you were there.” Devon reassures, “He knows you got him. Come on Ry.”

“It should be four hours.” Ryan closes his eyes, “Then he’s out and we can see him.” 

The elevator stops on their floor and they fight their way through the small crowd to get out. Instead of turning right towards the waiting rooms, Ryan turns left towards another hallway. 

“Ry.” Devon stops him, “The other way.” 

“Um no.” Ryan turns back around, “I said I can’t.” 

“You an Mike had a fight.” Devon guesses. 

Ryan nods before leaning back on the ledge of a window. 

There are no windows in the ICU and it’s the first time Ryan’s seen the sun in more than 24 hours. He tips his head back against the glass and closes his eyes. 

“Okay we’ll wait here.” Devon agrees standing next to Ryan.   
Eventually, Ryan agrees to walk back to the waiting room because it’s where they’re meant to receive updates on Talan. He sits clear across the room from Michael and they both ignore each other. 

Waiting through the second surgery is worst than the first. 

Ryan falls asleep across a too small couch and sleeps through the first two hours of Talan’s surgery. He wakes up when a doctor who’s still wearing operating room scrubs comes in to give them an update. 

It takes three more hours before they’re told that Talan is out of surgery and back in the ICU. 

*

Oliver wakes up still drowsy. He remembers the guest room from the night before and dazedly pulls the comforter further over his face. He reaches under his pillow for his stars and stripes towel and runs the corner of it between his fingers. 

He turns over and peaks out towards the chair where Ryan had been sitting. The chair is empty and none of Ryan’s things are still in the room. 

Oliver’s phone is charging beside his pillow. He picks it up, brings it under the comforter and flicks through the messages. There’s a ton from his cousins, particularly Brady. He ignored them because he can’t bring himself to comfort anyone. 

There’s one from Casey, telling him how sorry she is and how she hopes he’s okay. He tries to think of something to text back; a message that wouldn’t mention going catatonic on an airplane or being sedated on pills. He doesn’t want to mention how he hadn’t been able to give blood or make himself go to the ICU to sit with Talan. He tries to think of something that makes it seem like he has a handle on what’s going on that he isn’t just a kid hiding under the blankets too scared to get out of bed and face reality or sleep by himself in the dark. 

It’s morning though and the sun is blazing hard through the windows directly on the bed. Oliver sure the curtains had been closed the night before. He guesses that Caleb had walked in and opened them while he was still sleeping. 

He can’t think of anything to answer Casey, so he sends a quick “Thanks” and moves on to the other messages. He stops short at Evan’s name. 

Sorry bout tal call whenever 

It’s all the message says but Oliver’s heart beats faster. He thinks of calling right then and there but knows he has nothing to say. He’s too drowsy still to trust his thoughts and he doesn’t want to break down to his ex best friend boyfriend person. 

Frustrated with his lack of options Oliver shoves his phone back over the blankets, counts to twenty like he does on winter mornings when he knows he has to get up to go to the pool and pushes all of his blankets off. 

He doesn’t have any more clean clothes but there’s a pile of clean clothing on the dresser. He picks a pair of short and a t-shirt and brings them into the bathroom. 

He feels better after he showers. He takes his antibiotics, gets dressed and walks down the hallway to go downstairs. 

“Morning Oliver.” Caleb calls out when he walks into the kitchen, “Sit.” 

Caleb points to the stool next to his but gets up when Oliver sits down. 

“Is my dad here?” Oliver asks. “He was here when I went to sleep.”

“No Babe.” Caleb says regrettably, “Talan had his surgery this morning, they’re both at the hospital. They’ll call when there’s more news.”

“Okay.” Oliver tries to not sound upset. 

Caleb grabs a glass from a cupboard and sets it down in front of Oliver. 

“You’re with us, it’s all good.”

“He just left?” Oliver tries to understand, “Without saying anything?” 

“You were sleeping.” Caleb explains, “He didn’t want to wake you up. Juice?” 

“No.” Oliver pushes the glass away. 

“Do you want breakfast or lunch Babe?” Caleb asks, “We got both.” 

“I’m not hungry.” Oliver shrugs off, “Can I have coffee?” 

“No.” Caleb refuses, “You can have juice and breakfast or lunch. Scrambled eggs?” 

“Fine.” Oliver agrees.

Oliver takes his glass and walks over to the fridge to get some water. He stops in front of the full coffee pot and eyes it enviously. 

“One cup.” Caleb gives in, “Cups are in the cupboard right in front of you.” 

All the coffee cups they have at home are a mish mash of places they’ve been, swimming competitions and Olympic games they’ve attended. There’s some from the University of Florida, a few from Michigan and what sometimes feels like twenty years of Raven’s coffee mug Christmas gifts. Oliver’s favourite is an old one he’d stolen from his grandma’s kitchen a somewhat cracked Athens cup that had the US team’s medal count on the back. 

All the coffee cups in Caleb and Bruce’s cupboards are identical and a cheerful shade of yellow. Oliver takes one anyways and fills it up to the brim with coffee. He takes a sip and turns back towards Caleb. 

“I saw Talan yesterday.” Caleb attempts, whisking eggs in a bowl. “He looked alright.” 

Oliver takes another sip of coffee but doesn’t answer.

“He should be out of the ICU by tomorrow.” Caleb almost cheers, “He’ll be in a regular room, that won’t be so scary.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver agrees. 

“If he’s in a regular room you’ll be able to go see him.” Caleb says, “You can do it.” 

Oliver doesn’t make any promises. He finds a newspaper on the edge of the counter and brings it with him back to the counter stool. 

“Bruce is done reading it.” Caleb informs him, “It’s all yours, he probably took the crossword though.” 

Oliver doesn’t care about the crossword and he doesn’t really care about the newspaper. He’s tired of talking and figures that if he pretends to read then the Talan talk will stop. 

It works. Oliver pretends to read about the Olympic closing games while Caleb makes eggs. Oliver eats them while still reading and once he’s done Caleb takes his plate before Oliver can put it away himself. 

“Go read outside.” Caleb suggests, “Nat’s out on the dock. You can hang with him.” 

Being outside in the sun sounds more appealing than being stuck inside. Oliver finds his backpack by the front door and digs through it for his book. He finds his flip-flops, slips them on and walks back through the kitchen to the sliding glass door. 

“You both need sunscreen.” Caleb calls out after Oliver, “There’s some by the pool.” 

Their backyard in Daytona gives out on the beach but Caleb and Bruce’s house gives out on a canal. They have a boat that’s docked right off the backyard and Nat is lounging on the dock a few feet away from it. 

“I’d take us out.” Nat tells Oliver when he sees him walking over, “But I crashed it so I’m grounded.” 

“How?” Oliver asks, settling himself down beside Nat and opening his book. 

“Forgot which way I was steering, hit the sea wall, dad yelled.” Nat doesn’t even look at him, “Can’t drive it for the rest of summer. Blows.” 

“SUNSCREEN.” They hear Caleb yelling from the backdoor, “BOTH OF YOU.” 

“Sorry.” Nat rolls his eyes, “He’s a pain.” 

“It’s okay.” Oliver shrugs, “My dad’s like that too. Worse than like a mom.” 

Nat laughs and turns on his stomach. 

“I’m leaving in two weeks.” He explains, “He’s kind of freaking out about it. My dad’s not home a lot so I don’t know what he’s gonna do when I’m not home.” 

“Hang out with my dad.” Oliver offers, “figure out a way to get more camo fabric into our house.” 

“I got into UNC.” Nat tells Oliver, “They didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere my grades are so bad… But like I got a lacrosse scholarship.” 

“Awesome.” Oliver drops his book and closes his eyes; the sun feels good against his face. “D’you wanna go?” 

“B’s pre-med at Brown.” Nat shrugs, “They’re not like proud of a lacrosse scholarship at UNC.” 

“It’s still a good school.” Oliver consoles, “I looked at it.” 

“Yeah right Harvard.” Nat laughs, “You looked at what? Their website? The pool? ” 

“My dads might kill for Tal to get a basketball scholarship there too.” Oliver shrugs, “You never know.” 

“How many swimming scholarship you turned down for Harvard?” Nat asks, “When Tal gets out he should start swimming, get all of those back.” 

“Whatever.” Oliver rolls his eyes, “Didn’t want ‘em. Done swimming.” 

“Didn’t need ‘em.” Nat corrects. 

“So you got in on a scholarship.” Oliver props himself up on an elbow to look at Nat: “Who cares your dad’s are still proud like my dads ‘be if Tal got in for basketball. You wanna play sports, I don’t give a shit. Take good courses, go to class, you don’t gotta be pre-med for your dads to care.” 

“Yeah.” Nat agrees slowly, “Not bad for a crack baby.”

“Bet you get grounded if your dad hears you say that.” Oliver shakes his head, “That ain’t right.” 

“It’s not like they were the ones doing the crack.” Nat offers, “They tell the story all the time why can’t I?” 

“Dude just no.” Oliver shakes his head again, “Stop. I like couldn’t breathe when I was born I was in an incubator and my dads couldn’t hold me. I had a rough start too.”

“My mom did crack.” Nat counters. “My brother’s in med school.”

“Yeah then your dads got you an it’s shitty to say.” Oliver frowns at him, “I worked fucking hard to get into Harvard it didn’t just like… happen.” 

“Yeah.” Nat agrees, “I was lazy.”

“You could go to med school.” Oliver offers, “Like I’m sure it’s-” 

“You don’t want to swim?” Nat asks. 

“Yeah.” Oliver isn’t even sure he wants to be around a pool. 

“I don’t wanna go to med school.” Nat finishes.

They stop talking and Oliver half drifts off to sleep until he dreams of a wave crashing down on him. He sits up fully awake and watches a couple on a Jet Ski drive by the house. They wave at him. 

“D’you bring your gold medals?” Nat asks, “We’d get so many chicks.” 

Oliver isn’t sure where his medals are. He doesn’t know if they’d left them in New York or in Costa Rica. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen them but he doesn’t miss having them around. It’s funny how just over a week since leave Rotterdam the medals have lost all meaning to him. 

“Watching the boat is fucking bumming me out.” Nat groans, “You still play football or you gotta watch your shoulder?” 

“I can play.” Oliver answers quickly, “I can kick your ass.” 

Nat laughs before shaking out his dark tight curls and pulling himself to his feet. He pulls up his swimsuit and Oliver forces himself to look away from the tan line running low across Nat’s hips. 

They toss a slightly deflated football back and forth for a while before determining a makeshift football field in the backyard. Twice touchdown throws hit the deck of the boat and Nat runs in to get it before his father can catch him. 

Nat tackles hard and Oliver is forced to step up his game. Slamming Nat to the ground feels good and Oliver feels some of his stress fade away. 

They don’t really keep track of points and Oliver’s thigh is scraped from falling against a palm tree. When the backdoor slides open Oliver assumes that it’s just Caleb ready to douse both of them with sunscreen. 

“Babe.” Caleb calls out. 

Both Nat and Oliver look up but Caleb motions at Oliver to come see him. 

Instantly of Oliver’s worries settle back in his chest. He drops the football at his feet instead of throwing it to Nat.

“It’ll be okay.” Nat comforts, “My like dad wouldn’t give Tal shitty surgeons.”

*

It takes longer for Talan to wake up. Michael and Ryan sit by his bed in ICU for an hour with no change. Ryan is on Talan’s good side holding onto his hand and Michael keeps a hand over the blankets on Talan’s leg, stroking his thumb against the blue wool. 

Ryan and Michael don’t talk. 

Nurses and doctors walk in and out but Talan doesn’t wake up. The ICU is never quiet but the silence between Michael and Ryan is deafening. Several times Michael looks up at Ryan but Ryan never looks away from Talan. 

Another half hour passes by and still nothing. Talan’s chest rises and falls steadily with the respirator. The bruising on his face is more intense and his skin is still too pale. They know from the doctor’s last report that Talan’s blood pressure is still low. 

Ryan reaches across the bed to fix Talan’s blanket again. He pulls it up higher forcing Michael’s hand to fall away. Ryan folds it down over Talan’s chest and pulls it up again reaching down to smooth out the wrinkles. 

“Stop.” Michael snaps, “His blanket’s fine.” 

“No.” Ryan says pointedly, “He likes it this way.” 

They’re both exhausted, angry and on edge. They’re both mad at each other and worried. Michael has a smart reply planned but before he can say it one of Talan’s machine starts to beep. 

“Not his heart.” Ryan reassures Michael almost instantly. He points to the vitals monitor where Talan’s heartbeat is still steady, “He’s good it ain’t him.” 

“Yeah he’s not.” Michael says frustrated, “Doing anything.” 

“The medicine has to wear off.” Ryan snaps, “It ain’t like he’s staying sleeping on purpose.” 

“That’s not what I was-” Michael snaps again, “Stop fu-” 

Michael stops when the nurse walks in and he bows his head. He’s frustrated at Ryan and unable to get it out. He can’t scream at him in a hospital room or scream at him while Talan isn’t okay. He’s not even sure he’s really mad at Ryan or just taking the entire situation out on him. Michael just wants to yell at someone and Ryan is the easiest target. 

“It’s just time to switch out his fluids.” She says, “It’s not a bad beep.” 

“Can we tell when he’s going to wake up?” Michael asks. 

Michael’s left foot taps incessantly against the floor. He puts his hand back on Talan’s leg and drums his thumb against him. 

“No.” The nurse shakes her head, “The medication will wear off and he’ll wake up slowly. We’re taking good care of him just keep talking so he knows you’re here.”

It’s not what Michael wants to hear. He wants a set time and guarantees. Wants to be sure that the medication will wear off and his kid will wake up. He’s never wanted to see Talan open his eyes more. 

“His blood pressure’s the same.” Michael laments, “Come on Tal.” 

“He got really hurt.” Ryan says shortly, “He’s doing the best he can.” 

“Fuck.” Michael swears again. 

He lets go of Talan’s leg and rubs his face, knocking his baseball hat off and pulling it back on his head lower over his face. He groans exasperated before looking across the bed at Ryan. 

“Stop.” Michael bites, “I’m-” 

He stops himself because fighting with Ryan takes too much effort and he doesn’t have it in him to care. 

“Hey.” Ryan says softly to Talan completely ignoring Michael, “It’s time to wake up Baby.” 

Michael knows that Ryan’s stopped caring. Instead of trying to talk to his husband Michael reaches to brush his fingers against the side of Talan’s face. 

Another hour and a half of absolute silence slowly drifts by and the nurses and doctors walking in and out of the room start to look more concerned. 

Michael feels Talan frown first. He carefully takes his hand away from his son’s face and waits for it to happen again. 

“Ry.” Michael whispers and his voice is hoarse from lack of use, “He’s moving.” 

It’s slower than last time. Talan starts off by frowning and moving his head. His good hand holds onto Ryan’s and his eyes flutter open slowly. When he wakes up a bit more he starts struggling against the breathing tube. His hand reaches up to grab it but Ryan stops him just in time. 

“Talan.” Ryan says before firmly grabbing his hand, “It’s helping you breathe it’s okay. Stop.” 

Ryan uses a tone of voice Michael hadn’t thought he would hear him use in a hospital. 

Talan’s eyes are open wide in panic and he struggles feebly against Ryan. Tears run down his face and he looks wildly around until he sees Michael. 

“Talan.” Michael steps closer to the bed, he rests his hand carefully against Talan’s side, “Stop. They’ll take it out.” 

Talan doesn’t calm down. He weakly fights against Ryan’s grip and tries to trash his head back and forth. He blinks hard and keeps fighting. He looks at them still panicked and scared. 

“You can’t talk I know.” Ryan tries to calm Talan down, he presses down against Talan’s good hand with more force, “Just nod yes or no. You can nod. You can talk after it comes out.” 

“Go back to sleep babe.” Michael urges. “It’s okay.”

Talan manages to get his hand out of Ryan’s grip and closes his fist around the tube. 

“Where’s his nurse.” Ryan tells Michael alarmed, “Where’s his nurse?” 

When the nurses come in, Michael and Ryan are told to leave. They wait in the hallway right outside the doors but are unable to see Talan with all the people crowding around him. 

“Um…” Ryan’s voice shakes, “He’s okay… He’s just waking up… He’s okay.” 

Michael ignores him. He pulls his phone from his pocket out of habit and remembers that it’s turned off. 

“He shouldn’t have been awake for that.” Ryan complains, “How much shit they want him to go through.” 

“You want to go take a walk?” Michael glances sideways and motions towards the door, “Get it together?” 

“Fuck you.” Ryan says under his breath, “I care.” 

“I care too.” Michael answers back. “He’s not just yours.” 

They’re fighting like they’re nineteen and arguing over video games. Like they aren’t standing outside the hospital room of their fifteen-year-old son. Like they don’t have almost twenty years of marriage behind them. 

“Go.” Ryan suggests, “I got this.” 

“Tal wants me here.” Michael reminds him, “He’s my kid. He needs one of us to have it together.”

They stand in silence two feet away from Talan’s room having a whispered argument. When Michael looks up from his turned off phone he catches the eye of the mother of the kid in the room next to Tal’s. She smiles at him and Michael glances back down quickly. From the corner of his eye he sees Ryan glance up too but instead of avoiding the woman’s glance Ryan waves at her. 

*

When they’re allowed back into the room, Talan’s face is still tear stained but he’s free of the breathing tube. 

“Sorry that happened Pal.” Michael apologizes as soon as he reaches the bed, “That’s not gonna happen again okay?” 

“Kay.” Talan answers, his voice hoarse, “Bad.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “That was bad.” 

Talan mostly frowns. He frowns at them, at the nurses and at the doctors. He’s unhappy and restless. He complains of being thirsty but won’t drink water. He complains about being cold even though his temperature is normal. His oxygen levels drop and he’s put on an oxygen tube that bothers him. 

“Hungry.” Talan tells Ryan. 

“He can have ice chips.” The nurse offers overhearing Talan’s requests, “They’ll be good for his throat.” 

“Good.” Talan agrees with the nurse. 

“There’s a machine just around the corner.” The nurse tells Ryan, “With cups. You’ll probably have to feed them to him.” 

“I got him.” Michael offers, ashamed of how he’d treated Ryan earlier. “Grab something to eat or go walk around. Bathroom whatever.”

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “I’ll be back with ice Baby. Don’t go anywhere.” 

Ryan kisses Talan’s forehead and Talan let’s out a low laugh at the feeling. He closes his eyes wrinkles his nose against the oxygen tube. 

“You can sleep.” Michael tells Talan once Ryan’s walked out of the room, “I’m here.”

Talan falls back asleep for two minutes. When he wakes up he’s stopped frowning. 

“Hey Dad.” Talan turns his head sideways to look at Michael, “Hi Dad.”

“Hey Babe.” Michael smiles at him, “How you feeling?” 

“Good.” Talan grins at him, “Hi. Hi Dad.” 

“Hi Babe.” Michael says again, “You’re good?” 

“Where’s Dad.” Talan asks again. 

“Dad went to get you ice.” Michael reminds him, “You wanted ice.” 

“Yeah.” Talan remembers, “My mouth.”

“Nothing hurts?” Michael asks. 

“Nah.” Talan says casually, “Hi.” 

“Hi Tal.” Michael answers again. 

Michael bends down to kiss Talan’s face and Talan throws his arm around Michael’s shoulder and tries to pull himself up. 

“You’re okay.” Michael kisses him again in relief, “It’s okay. Come on Babe, back down.”

Michael takes Talan’s arm by the wrist and guides it back against the bed. He keeps holding his hand but stands back up next to the bed. He watches Talan wrinkle his nose and push up his upper lip against his oxygen tube. 

“It’s for oxygen.” Michael explains, “Because you’re still sleepy.” 

“No sleep.” Talan complains, “Ice.” 

Talan pulls his hand away from Michael and reaches up for his oxygen tube. He feels it with his fingers and pokes at his nose confused. 

“Is it bugging you Pal?” Michael asks, “You gotta keep it.” 

“Yeah.” Talan moans, “Talk to them ‘bout it.” 

“Okay.” Michael agrees, reaching to grab Talan’s hand away from the tube, “I’ll talk to them.” 

“Feels weird.” Talan pleads his case, “Tell the nurse.” 

“Tell me what sweetheart?” The nurse asks. 

“Hi.” Talan smiles at her. “I want ice. For my mouth.” 

“Your dad’s on his way back.” The nurse reassures, “I just saw him.” 

Talan considers her answer for a second. He looks around past Michael towards the door and frowns again. He reaches to fiddle with his oxygen tube again and whines. 

“Dad’s coming.” Michael answers to try and keep Talan calm. “Look, He’s here.” 

“Bed’s not comfy.” Talan complains, ignoring Michael. “I wanna comfy bed an’ a pillow.” 

“For now you have to stay here.” Michael tells him, “Try to go to sleep.”

“No.” Talan refuses, “Hi Dad.” 

“Hey Pal.” Michael answers again, he places the oxygen tube back in Talan’s nose and Talan tries to move his face away. “It’s okay.”

“Where’s Dad?” Talan asks, “Tell the nurse.” 

Talan is restless. His movements are clumsy and he whines quietly. It breaks Michael’s heart. He has to force himself to touch Talan like things are normal, to not think of the wires and the tubs keeping his kid stable. He wants to find someone and yell at them to do a better job and fix it. To make Talan feel better right away. 

“Tell ‘em what Baby?” Ryan asks sympathetically finally making his way back to Talan’s bedside, ‘I got your ice.” 

“Hurts.” Talan complains, “Don’t want it to hurt. Tell ‘em.” 

“He’s not suppose to hurt.” Michael says to Ryan, “What hurts Tal?” 

“Everything.” Talan mumbles. “I’m cold. Tell ‘em.” 

“We’ll get you more pain medication Talan.” The nurse tells him, “And warm blankets does that sound okay?” 

“Yeah.” Talan grumbles, “Fast.” 

Talan squints around the room and Michael automatically looks for his glasses but remembers that they don’t have an extra pair. He makes a mental note to ask Devon or anyone to bring a new pair back. Michael thinks that he’s willing to fly someone down to Daytona so Talan can see. He puts his hand on Talan’s forehead to try and smooth out the worry wrinkles. 

“Hi Daddy.” Talan says turning to Ryan, “Hi.” 

“Hey Baby.” Ryan stirs the cup of ice with a plastic spoon, “Want some ice?” 

“I want a hug.” Talan requests, “Can I get a hug?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan hands the cup of ice to Michael and reaches for Talan. “I love you.” 

“Me too.” Talan says. 

When Ryan lets go of Talan, Talan is tearful. He blinks and tears run down his cheeks, he sniffs and reaches to wipe them away. 

“You’re okay.” Ryan implores, “You’re done all the hard stuff. Dad an’ me are gonna stay here with you.” 

“It’s a lot.” Talan sniffs. 

“What’s a lot?” Michael glances back to see if the nurse is any closer to bringing Talan extra pain medication, “Tell me and I’ll fix it.” 

“I dunno.” Talan tries to shrug but with only one working shoulder the effect is lopsided and awkward, “I’m cold.” 

Michael feels powerless. Oliver had woken up from shoulder surgery drowsy and hungry. He’d been angry they wouldn’t let him eat right away and annoyed by his heart monitor clip. He hadn’t been in distress, hadn’t cried and they’d been allowed to take him with them after an hour in recovery. 

He feels stupid for thinking that Talan’s surgery would be the same. 

“Baby they give you medication to go to sleep yeah?” Ryan comforts, his hand rubbing against Talan’s shoulder, “It makes you upset. It’s okay.” 

“Hi.” Talan turns his head towards Ryan. 

“Hi.” Ryan answers back. He uses his thumb to wipe Talan’s tears off his cheeks. “You’re good dude. Want some ice?” 

Talan nods but before he can accept the spoonful Michael is about to feed him the nurse walks back in with a blanket and a syringe. 

“Took you a really long time.” Talan complains. “I’m cold. My dad’s gonna talk to your boss.” 

Talan’s last words are mumbled. He narrows his eyes at the nurse and watches her inject the medication. 

“Be nice Tal.” Ryan reminds him. 

“You say be nice to me.” Talan argues back, “She knows I’m cold.” 

“You’ll be warm in a second.” The nurse ignores Talan’s threat. She pulls off his first blanket, replaces it with the warm on and places his old one back over it, “There that’s better.” 

“Yeah.” Talan relaxes, “I like that..”

“Sleep.” Michael urge, “We’ll stay here.” 

“No.” Talan refuses. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Michael answers back again, “Want some ice?” 

Talan doesn’t answer right away. He fiddles with his oxygen tube, pushing it up with his top lip and scrunching up his nose to get it to fall out again. When it’s hanging off his face he turns back to Michael.

“Yeah.” He nods, “Where’s Dad?” 

“Right here.” Ryan reassures, “You need your oxygen okay Tal even if it bugs you.” 

It’s Ryan’s turn to try and place Talan’s oxygen tube back. Talan reaches up to fight against him. 

“Talan.” Michael tries to reason with him, “Stop. All that has to stay in for you to get better.” 

“Bugs me.” Talan complains, “Take it out.”

“I know.” Ryan pacifies, “But you need it ‘til you wake up more. Take some ice Baby it’ll feel good.”

Michael feeds Talan a spoonful of quickly melting ice chips. 

“Feels weird.” Talan laughs. The sound of his own laugh startles him and he makes the sound again louder. 

“He’s so high.” Ryan laughs with Talan, “He’s high.” 

Michael tries to feed Talan more ice but he keeps his tongue out too long and the water dribbles down his chin. It makes him laugh again. 

“You have to chew.” Michael reminds him, “Close your mouth.” 

Talan rolls his eyes and drops his head back on his pillow like Michael is asking way too much of him. He moans when the nurse moves his bed up a little.

“What hurts Talan?” Michael asks before giving him another spoonful of ice. “Remember, chew.” 

“Nothing.” Talan says carefully chewing his ice. “Can I get a hug?” 

“Yeah.” Michael puts the cup of ice down and leans down carefully holding onto Talan, “Love you.”

“Good boy Talan.” Ryan soothes. 

“You rub my feet.” Talan decides, “That’ll feel nice.”

“I don’t think we’re allowed to touch your legs Tal.” Michael guesses, “You had surgery.” 

“Dad.” Talan turns to Ryan, “Do it.” 

“I can rub your shoulders.” Ryan offers instead.

“No.” Talan refuses, “I’m telling grandma.” 

“You’re in trouble now.” Michael jokes to Ryan, “Do you want more ice Tal?” 

“No.” Talan refuses, “Feels weird in my mouth.” 

Keeping Talan busy and happy is exhausting but he falls asleep soon after his last spoonful of ice. He sleeps peacefully and the nurse replaces his oxygen tube with a mask. Michael takes a break to go call Oliver and when he comes back Ryan takes a break to go talk to his family and ask Devon to bring back every pair of glasses he can find in their house. 

It’s dinnertime when Talan wakes up again. His silliness from before is gone and he’s not in the best mood. With the oxygen mask on his face he looks miserable. 

“Alright Talan.” The nurse says cheerfully. She grabs hold of the wires and pulls them to drape over the back of his bed, “We're going to sit you up for a bit. That’s going to be so nice.” 

“My head spins.” Talan complains. He closes his eyes again, “No.” 

“We're just going to try it out hun. We'll go slow.”

“I don't wanna throw up.” Talan tells her, “No.”

“It's okay pal.” Michael squeezes Talan's leg, 

“No.” Talan whines, “I don't feel good.”

“It's the medication they gave you to be asleep during surgery Baby, it'll go away.” Ryan says from his place backed up against the side of the room because there isn't enough room for the two of them plus the nurse beside Talan’s bed. 

“My throat hurts.” Talan explains, more coherent than he’s been for days “I don't wanna throw up.” 

“It's okay to be sick hun.” The nurse brings his bed up. She takes the oxygen mask off his face and replaces it back with the tube. “We have bowls do you need one?” 

Talan nods. He takes Michael's hand and rests it over his eyes. 

“Are you dizzy?” Michael asks.

Talan nods again. He slouches sideways to lean against Michael and tears start to run down his face. 

“It'll go away Tal. Just breathe through your nose.” Michael grabs a kleenex from the box beside the bed and hands it to Talan.

“Don't cry hun.” The nurse comes back with a cup of water and a straw, “The medication makes-”

“No.” Michael says pointedly, “He can cry. He's hurt.” 

Talan gags. Ryan grabs a bowl off the table tray and hands it to Mike who holds it under Talan's chin. 

Ryan moves closer to the bed and rubs Talan's ankle, 

After a minute, Talan pushes the bowl from out under his chin. He takes Michael's hand and puts it back over his eyes for a second before pushing it away. 

“You're just having a tough time with the meds Tal.” Ryan squeezes in next to Michael. He reaches across him to rub a hand through Talan's hair. “Do you want to drink some water?” 

“No.” Talan reaches up and drags Ryan's hand to rest on his forehead. He lets out a frustrated noise. “Make it go away.” 

The nurse hands Ryan an ice pack wrapped in a towel “Put it on the back of his neck.” She instructs. 

“Take the blankets off.” Talan whines again, “I’m hot.”

“Tal.” Michael grabs most of the blankets covering Talan and pulls them down, leaving one on for modesty, “Calm down. Take deep breaths.” 

“Don’t touch me!” Tal pushes at Ryan’s hand before trying to move his legs away from Michael. “Stop!”

Once they’re not touching him Tal takes a breath and rests against his pillows a second later he gags and throws up. Without touching him Ryan sits by Talan’s knees and hands him the pale green bowl. 

“You’re okay Tal.” Ryan tries to soothe, “It’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry.” Tal cries, “I didn’t wanna.” 

The nurse comes back with a needle and injects something directly into one of the IV ports on the back of Talan’s hand. 

“Anti-emetic” She explain, “It’ll help him stop gagging.” 

Tal retches again and again but doesn’t throw up anything but liquid. Once he stops, his hands shake and Ryan carefully takes the bowl away from him to rest it back on the tray table. 

“You’re okay Pal.” Michael says. 

“No.” Talan shakes his head and retches again, he lets out a sob, “Make it stop.”

“Baby.” Ryan moves forward on Talan’s bed and takes his son’s face in his hands. 

“Don’t touch.” Talan tries to shake his head free but his movements are pretty weak, “Don’t wanna throw up-”

“You’ve puked on me more times than I can think of.” Ryan dismisses. He reaches for the forgotten ice packs and holds it between the back of Talan’s neck and his pillow. “Baby they gave you medication to get you to sleep and it’s why you’re sick and it’s normal.”

Talan gags but Ryan doesn’t move. He rubs the spot behind Talan’s ear with his thumb. 

“She just gave you medication to make it stop.” Ryan says and he thinks for a second about how much medication is currently in Talan’s system, “You’re gonna go back to sleep and when you wake up it’ll be better okay.”

“You’re gonna be here?” Talan asks. 

“Yeah baby.” Ryan reassures, “We’re not leaving.” Ryan puts the hand that had been holding the ice pack on Talan’s forehead. Talan reaches up to keep Ryan’s hand there. “Just relax. You’re okay.”

“That’s nice,” Talan says and his voice is quiet, “It’s cold. Dad?” 

“Your dad’s here.” Ryan turns around to find Michael right behind him. 

“I’m right here.”

“Okay.” Talan says before closing his eyes.

Tal stays quiet for a few minutes before he pushes Ryan’s hand off his forehead, “S’not cold.” He complains.

Michael taps Ryan on the shoulder and hands him a second ice pack. 

Ryan tries putting the ice pack against Talan’s forehead but Talan pushes it away. 

“Is your hand cold?” Ryan turns around to ask Michael, “Switch with me.” 

Ryan ducks under Michael’s arm and stands back against the foot of the bed. He watches Talan grab Michael’s wrist with his one good hand and press it against his forehead. They take turns holding their hands against Talan’s face until he’s asleep. 

“He’s probably going to sleep through the night.” The nurse tells them, “I’m going to be with him until morning if you want to go and clear your heads or eat something.” 

“No.” Ryan dismisses, “I’m not leaving.” 

“I can’t leave either.” Michael agrees, “I’m not going.” 

Talan sleeps peacefully and his vital signs stabilize. He doesn’t fight the oxygen tube and his hand is slack against Ryan’s. He breathes calmly and evenly and his face stays relaxed. 

Michael and Ryan sit three feet away from each other in silence. They both doze off in the uncomfortable chairs and forget about family that may or may not still be hanging around the waiting room. They both jump awake when Talan stirs or when a machine beeps. 

“You should like go be with Ols.” Ryan says an hour later breaking their silent watch, “Not ‘cause I don’t want you here but ‘cause Ols needs you.” 

“You haven’t slept like at all.” Michael stretches his arms over Talan’s bed, “You should-” 

“No.” Ryan refuses, “Ols wants you. Tal’s just gonna sleep.” 

“I told him I’d be here when he woke up.” Michael explains, “I don’t want him to think I didn’t stay.” 

“He’ll get you’re with Oliver.” Ryan explains and Michael knows it’s the truth, “Ols hasn’t seen either of us in like… a day. He needs you.” 

Michael is worried about Oliver and he misses him. He feels guilty about sending him away. As much as he wants to stay with Talan he knows that Oliver needs them too. 

“He might be in a regular room tomorrow.” Ryan says hopefully, “Ols can come see him then that won’t be so scary. Someone can stay with Talan and we can all go eat or something. Get some sleep-” Ryan yawns, “I don’t know.” 

“You need sleep.” Michael argues. 

“I got chairs here.” Ryan points to the extra chair and the blanket on top of it, “I’m okay.” 

Michael doubts Ryan will sleep. 

“Call me if he’s sick again.” Michael asks, “Or if he’s not okay… Ask him if he hurts when he wakes up because he’s like you and he won’t tell us… If he can eat I’ll bring him a milkshake or something on my way back… He won’t eat hospital food. IF he wants to talk to me call, I’ll answer. I’ll talk to him.” 

“He’s just gonna sleep Mike.” Ryan reassures, “He’ll like a milkshake.” 

It’s hard for Michael to leave but Talan is sound asleep. He walks out of the ICU room without touching Ryan and dazedly makes his way to the hospital parking lot where Ryan had parked the car he’d borrowed from Bruce and Caleb. The address is already in the GPS and stops to get a cup of coffee to keep himself awake. 

Once he’s a few block away from the hospital and the only car the road he lets himself cry. 

*

When Talan opens his eyes next he has softer blankets and a pillow propped between his arm and his chest. He turns his head and blinks, his eyes focusing in the darkness lit up by the hallway light, and spots Ryan sleeping with his head leaning near his side. 

He moves the hand that's not in a brace to scratch his face and his IV tugs hard against the tape. He tries to pull himself up and Ryan's hand closes in on his leg. 

“Hey Baby.” Ryan says quietly. 

Ryan sits up and stretches. He lets go of Talan’s leg and checks the time on his phone. Michael had left four hours ago. It’s the middle of the night and the light coming from the hallway is irritating. Ryan is instantly worried. He tries hard to wake up as quickly as possible.

Talan’s eyes are open and he doesn’t seem upset or sick. Ryan pulls off the blanket he’d wrapped over his shoulders and drapes it over Talan’s legs. 

“Scratch my face?” Talan asks, still struggling to sit up. “I'm tangled.”

Talan’s voice is still hoarse and his words are slower than usual and still slightly slurred. He sounds more like himself though and Ryan watches him try to sit up a third time.

“Don't try to sit.” Ryan orders, putting one of his hands on Talan’s chest to keep him down. “You're pretty banged up. I'll move the bed.” 

Ryan only moves the bed up a little, so Talan is slightly raised up. He grabs the pillow from the chair next to him and carefully props it up behind Talan’s back. 

Touching the IV tubes scares him but Ryan knows calling the nurse will scare Talan more. So, Ryan reaches and untangles Talan’s IV from the heart monitor cable and the strap of his sling. He smoothes his fingers over the tape on the back of Talan's hand before he gives more slack to the oxygen tube still on Talan’s face. 

“Thanks.” Talan says. He scratches his face, slipping his fingers under the oxygen tube and pulling it out of his nose for a second. “I don’t like this.” 

“You gotta have it in.” Ryan tells him, “Your lungs aren’t really at a hundred. You swallowed water probably and then surgery.” 

Talan groans in frustration. He pulls the prongs out of his nose for a few seconds before looking at Ryan and putting them back in.

“How d'you feel?” Ryan grabs a cup of water from the table beside him and holds the straw up to Talan's mouth, “Water.” 

Talan scrunches up his face and pushes the cup away. Ryan puts the cup back and fixes the blankets around Talan's chest out of habit. 

“Tired.” Talan admits, “What time is it?” 

“Late, you slept for awhile.” Ryan re-arranges the pillow under Talan's arm, “Do you remember waking up?” 

“No.” Talan squints and scratches near the bandage on his chest. “What happened?”

“You weren't feeling good.” Ryan takes a deep breath and gets up to kiss the side of Talan's head. He sits up on Talan's bed, careful to not move the mattress too much. 

“I feel okay now.” Talan says, “Kinda just... Slow like things are slow.” 

“You got a lot of pain killers going on.” Ryan tells him, “Take it slow ok?” 

Talan nods and closes his eyes. Ryan reaches over to fix Talan’s blankets again even though Talan hasn’t moved much at all. 

“Are you warm enough?” 

Talan nods

“Wanna sit up more?” Ryan offers.

“Yeah.” Talan opens his eyes, “Yes.”

Talan doesn’t seem really committed to either staying awake or going back to bed. He lets Ryan move his bed up and scratches his face again before scratching against the tape on the back of his hand. 

“They fixed everything.” Ryan tells him as he sets the remote down away from Talan’s reach, “You hurt your pelvis but with like physio you'll be fine.” 

Talan lifts the blankets up to look at himself, “That's gnarly.” 

“You’re okay.” Ryan confirms, “You got banged up.” 

“I'm naked.” Talan says horrified, his reaction a few seconds delayed from his discovery. 

“You have like eight blankets no one saw anything.” Ryan comforts, “They got hospital gowns if you want one.” 

“No.” Talan rests back against his pillow, the thought of getting dressed is more exhausting than the embarrassment of being naked. “S’ok.”

Talan goes back to sleep. His eyes close and his breathing evens out. He stops frowning and when his arm breaks out in goose bumps Ryan grabs the extra blanket he’d put over Talan’s legs and drapes it over his chest. 

The nurse walks in to check on Talan. Once she’s gone Ryan gets up to stretch his legs. He walks to find a bathroom and to check his messages. He calls Michael but gets his voicemail. He thinks of calling Devon but doesn’t want to wake him up. He walks by dark windows and starts worrying that he’s left Talan alone too long. 

On his way back to the ICU he walks by the parents of the child in the room three doors down from Talan. They’re crying and Ryan’s stomach starts to hurt. He walks quicker down the hallway and glances into the room once he’s buzzed back into the ICU. The bed is empty and Ryan can’t process it. He wants to take Talan and go home. Wants to eliminate the possibility that Talan’s ICU bed could be empty. 

Talan is still sleeping but he wakes up when Ryan touches his face. He blinks and looks around the room again before his eyes settle on Ryan. 

“Where are we?” Talan asks before pulling at the oxygen tube.

“Miami.” Ryan answers, trying to keep his voice steady. He can’t bring himself to tell Talan to leave the oxygen tube alone. “It was the closest American hospital.” 

“I don't remember flying.” Tal says. He cranes his neck and groans when it cracks. 

“Be careful.” Ryan warns, “You got like plates holding your collarbone together Baby, don't-” 

“Throat feels weird.” Talan complains, “Neck’s all-” 

“They had to put a tube down your throat.” Ryan explains again, “You were in surgery for a long time.”

Talan nods and pulls the oxygen tube away from his face entirely, letting it drag under his chin.

“No Tal.” Ryan grabs the tube, “You have to keep it in your nose.” 

“Bugs me.” Talan complains, “Stupid.” 

“Yeah but you need it.” Ryan appeases. He puts the prongs back in Talan’s nose and makes sure the tube isn’t resting against any of the bruises on Talan’s face. 

Talan frowns at him and whines but he doesn’t pull it away. 

“Sorry.” Ryan comforts. “You can go back to sleep.” 

“Water?” Talan asks.

“Yeah.” Ryan reaches back for the cup and holds it up to Talan’s mouth. “You’re allowed to drink.” 

Talan awkwardly holds the cup with his right hand for a second before handing it back to Ryan. 

“Hold it.” Talan requests. “Can’t.” 

Ryan’s about to tell Talan that he can do it. That he can hold a cup in his right hand even though he’s left-handed and that he has to work to get better. Instead, he thinks of the empty bed three doors down and reaches for the cup and guides the straw closer to Talan’s mouth. 

“Your collarbone’s broken.” Ryan explains while Talan drinks, “Your arm’s fine it’s just gonna be in a brace so the break can get better. You got some broken ribs… You’re not gonna feel super hot for awhile… Your face is good though you didn’t hurt your face.” 

Talan stops drinking and pushes the cup away from his face. 

“You had two surgeries.” Ryan keeps explaining, putting the plastic cup back on the tray table next to Talan’s bed “You-” 

“Stop.” Talan asks, “S’freaking me out.” 

Talan peaks under the blankets at his hips again. He runs the finger tips of his good hand against his injured shoulder and rubs it over his ribs. He wiggles his toes underneath the blankets. 

“We got you.” Ryan comforts, “You’re gonna be okay. A lot of your tubes are gonna come out soon.”

“There’s one in my…” Talan trails off shocked. 

“Yeah to pee.” Ryan answers as normally as he can, “’Cause you were sleeping.” 

“Where does it go?” Talan asks concerned. 

“There’s a bag.” Ryan answers again, “On the bed.” 

“Gross.” Talan grimaces. 

“Yeah. Gross.” Ryan agrees, “It’s okay. They’ll take it out.”

“Who’s gonna take it out?” Talan interrogates embarrassed. 

“Who d’you want?” Ryan offers smiling. 

Talan isn’t amused. He shakes his head and reaches back out for the water glass. He holds it on his own this time and takes another sip. 

“Good boy.” Ryan encourages. “See you can do it.”

Talan winces as he swallows, hands the cup back to Ryan and yawns. 

“Tired?” Ryan asks, smoothing Talan’s hair back. 

“Yeah.” Talan says and his voice sounds a little farther off, “Feel like floaty.” 

Talan doesn’t relax. He frowns, chews his lip and looks around the room, squinting to make up for his lack of glasses. 

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asks, “You’re gonna have glasses tomorrow, we didn’t know where you left the ones in Costa Rica.” 

“Sorry.” Talan apologizes.

“No Baby.” Ryan brushes off. “Don’t worry.”

Talan squints around the room again and more worry lines settle on his face. 

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?” Ryan worries, “We can-” 

Talan shakes his head. 

“Tell me.” Ryan urges, “I’ll say the truth.” 

“S’Oliver okay?” Talan asks. He breathes in and his heart rate picks up, “I keep trying to remember and I dunno where he is… I-” 

“He’s okay.” Ryan interrupts Talan. “He’s with Uncle Caleb and Uncle Bruce. He’s not hurt.” 

“Yeah?” Talan wipes tears off his face, “Promise?” 

“Yeah Baby.” Ryan insists. “Promise.” 

Ryan starts to run his hand through Talan’s hair and Talan leans against his touch. Talan calms down and the heart monitor returns to a more regular rhythm. When Talan closes his eyes, Ryan blinks the tears he’d been holding back. He wipes them on the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Keep scratching my head.” Talan asks, “Feels nice.” 

Even though he’s talking Talan still looks awful. Ryan can see the staples, the bandages and the bruises. Talan still looks sick and Ryan wishes someone else were here with them. Wishes he had another person to reassure him that things were going to be okay.

“Keep talkin’ to me?” Talan asks again, 

“Oliver can come see you tomorrow.” Ryan says, “Dad can bring him when he comes back.” 

“I just didn’t know-” Talan yawns, “F’he got hurt too.” 

“You don’t remember?” Ryan asks. 

“No…” Talan answers slowly, “Like… I was…” 

“You’ve had a rough few days.” Ryan consoles, “It’s okay now.” 

For the first time Talan notices how tired Ryan looks. He reaches out with his good hand to pats his dad's cheek. Ryan takes his hand in both of his and holds it close to his chest. 

“You were like super tough.” Ryan says, “Dad an me are super proud of you. You didn’t quit ever.” 

“I just slept.” Talan says closing his eyes “Is it Monday?”

“It's Thursday.” Ryan says, “You had two surgeries and you've been sleeping.”

“Still tired.” Talan admits, “Feel fuzzy.” 

“You're on lots of pain meds.” Ryan lets go of Ryan’s hand and leans over the railing to rest his arms close to Talan’s head. “They're suppose to make you sleepy.”

“Is that blood?” Talan opens his eyes and points to one of the IV's. 

“Yeah.” Ryan looks up at the IV bags and wonders if it’s his blood or Devon’s flowing back into Talan. 

“A lot of blood. I remember.” Talan leans his head against Ryan's arm and reaches for the cup of water again. “Yelling at me to not sleep.” 

“Don't think about it, you're good now.” Ryan helps Talan get the water and holds it steady while he drinks. 

“I remember the beach an’…” Talan squints his eyes as he focuses, “You yelling at the guy who hurt me… Dad holding my face. Hurt a lot.” 

“You don’t gotta remember.” Ryan soothes, hoping Talan will stop because he doesn’t want to remember either.“Relax Baby.” 

Talan yawns and lets his head fall sideways. He stares at his IV’s watching the blood drip down into the back of his hand. He closes his eyes again and drifts off. 

“Go to sleep Baby.” Ryan reaches for the cup and puts it back on the tray table before grabbing the remote to move Talan’s bed back down

“You go sleep-” Talan mumbles. 

“I’m not leaving you.” Ryan dismisses. “I’ll sleep here.” 

Talan is asleep before Ryan finishes his sentence. Ryan watches him sleep for an hour waiting to see if he wakes up, if his pain medications wear off or if he has a nightmare. Once Talan’s shown no sign of discomfort or signs of waking up Ryan sits back in his chair and props his feet up against the railing of Talan’s bed. 

He takes his phone out to look at the time and sees that he’d forgotten to turn it off when he’d walked back into the ICU. He has one voicemail from Michael. He checks it even though his phone isn’t suppose to be on, sinking lower in his chair to not get caught. 

“Hey.” Michael’s voice is quiet, “I got here okay. Ols is sleeping… I’m gonna head to bed I guess? You have to sleep too. Maybe go to the hotel? I know you don’t wanna leave Tal but he’s gonna sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow; I’ll call to check on Tal. Love you- Um bye.” 

Michael’s I love you catches Ryan off-guard but Ryan knows it was probably said out of habit than actual feeling. He saves the messages, turns his phone off and drops it back in his pocket. 

He looks at Talan, fixates on the rhythm of the heart monitor and tries not to think of the empty bed three doors down. He yawns and tries to find a comfortable position to sleep in. After a few minutes of trying he gives up, sits back up and reaches for Talan’s hand. 

*

Once Michael calls to say that he’s on his way over, Caleb gets out of bed to wait for him. He’s taking Tupperware dishes full of leftovers out of the fridge to heat up for Michael when the screaming starts. 

His first thought is to go to Nathaniel’s room. He runs up the stairs, makes a right and stops in front of the still quiet closed door of his son’s room. The screaming stops for a second before starting again and Caleb knows his own child is perfectly safe but Oliver is not. 

Oliver is sleeping in a guest bedroom at the other end of the hallway. Caleb half runs there with the family dog trailing behind him like it’s a game. 

“Oliver.” Caleb says when he walks into the room. He flicks on the desk lamp before walking to the bed, “Oliver it’s okay.” 

Caleb isn’t sure if he’s supposed to wake Oliver up or wait until the dream is over. He sits on the side of the bed and puts his hand on Oliver’s shoulder. 

“It’s okay Oliver.” Caleb soothes, “Wake up.” 

Oliver wakes up with a start and curls on his side away from Caleb. 

“It was a bad dream Babe.” Caleb rubs Oliver’s shoulder, “It’s not real.” 

Oliver doesn’t say anything. The dog jumps up on the bed and settles herself down on Oliver’s other side to lick his face. Oliver reaches out to pet her. 

“You’re safe.” Caleb keeps his voice low, “You’re at our house.” 

Oliver nods and pushes the dogs face away from his. 

“Layla down.” Caleb tells the dog who hears the command and settles herself on Oliver’s chest “Your dads called.” Caleb keeps his voice low, “Talan’s doing good, he’s sleeping and everything looks fine. He’s going to be okay.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver answers, “Sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Caleb reaches next to the lamp to grab some Kleenex and hands them to Oliver. The sleeping pill Oliver should have taken hours ago is still on the bedside table. “Your dad’s on his way.” 

Oliver wipes his eyes and leans his head against the golden retriever’s side. 

“Do you want me to stay here?” Caleb offers, “While you go back to sleep?” 

“I don’t wanna sleep.” Oliver decides.

“Ok Babe.” Caleb doesn’t move away from the bed, “Want to come watch a movie? It’s late but we can-” 

“No.” Oliver sounds exasperated, “I don’t want to like-” 

“What?” Caleb asks concerned, “I’ll help Oliver. You have sleeping pills to take.” 

Oliver sits up crossed legged in bed. He moves his phone out from under his pillow and absentmindedly swipes his thumb across the screen. He keeps petting the dog.

“Oliver.” Caleb prods gently, “Whatever it is, it’s okay.” 

Oliver is embarrassed that he’s seventeen and can’t sleep because of nightmares. He’s ashamed that he needs pills to go to sleep and not wake up screaming. He wants to pretend it didn’t happen but he’s too scared to go back to sleep. Telling Caleb seems easier than telling his dads. Caleb doesn’t have to worry about Tal or be at the hospital. 

“I see Tal.” Oliver admits, “I fall asleep and it happens.... Like I see him and I go swim and I can’t make it.”

“Talan’s okay.” Caleb reminds Oliver, “He’s sleeping at the hospital but he’s breathing by himself and he was awake. His hips are okay. You can go see him tomorrow, I’m sure he wants to see you.” 

“I’m tired.” Oliver says defeated, “But every time I just watch him die.” 

“Do you want to go for a drive?” Caleb offers, “Clear your-”

“No.” Oliver refuses, “I just want my dad.” 

“He’s on his way.” Caleb comforts, “Do you want me to stay here?” 

“No.” Oliver refuses. He’s embarrassed that he’s already shared too much. “That’s okay.” 

Caleb is out of ideas. He hasn’t dealt with nightmares since Nat was in elementary school. He’d assured Ryan that Oliver would be okay. He thinks of going to wake up Bruce but thinks that might make Oliver feel worse. 

“I’m up.” Caleb reminds Oliver, “If you’re hungry or you want company just come downstairs. We can wait for your dad together. Don’t feel bad.” 

“I’m okay.” Oliver reassures, trying a little harder to look grown up and not like a kid who’d just admitted to nightmares. “I’ll take the pill. Sleep. Whatever.” 

“I’ll get you a new water glass.” Caleb reaches across Oliver to pat the golden retriever’s side, “Keep Layla.”

“I can go get water.” Oliver insists, wanting to make it clear that he doesn’t need to be taken care of. “It’s okay. Thanks.” 

“Alright Babe.” Caleb isn’t sure that leaving Oliver alone is the best idea, “Your dad should be here soon. I’m right downstairs. Layla’s got you, she was a therapy dog before she retired.” 

Oliver waits for Caleb to leave. Once his bedroom door is closed, Oliver grabs his phone instead of the pill. He kicks off his blankets and sits on top of them. He dials the hospital’s number but hangs up frustrated after three minutes of navigating automated menu gets him nowhere closer to getting news on Talan. All he manages to get is the cafeteria menu on a loop. 

Discouraged, he swallows the pill dry and feels it stick down his throat. He coughs a few times before taking a sip of the glass of water on the bedside table. He falls back against his pillows, moves to give the dog more room and closes his eyes. 

He tries hard to think of anything other than water. Tries to break out of imagining a perfect pool with red lane dividers. He tries to focus on his book and things he needs to pack for Harvard. He can’t though; every thought he has is interrupted by how Talan’s skin had felt under water and how the blood had felt on his face. The familiar panicked feeling of not being able to swim fast enough settles in his chest and he jolts awake. 

“Fuck.” He says to the dog. 

Oliver doesn’t know which parent is on his way to see him. He doesn’t particularly feel like dealing with Ryan’s apologies or with Michael’s nervous hovering. He wishes they would both stay with Talan. 

He’s scared to fall asleep but too tired to read. He takes his phone and dials for Evan before he can talk himself out of it. 

“Hey.” Oliver says when Evan picks up. He tries to keep the surprise out of his voice, “I can’t sleep. Talk to me.” 

“Dude.” Evan sounds half asleep, “What?” 

“It’s Oliver…” Oliver adds awkwardly, thinking that maybe Evan answered without looking at the caller ID. “Hi.” 

“Yo.” Evan sounds a bit more awake, “My dad said about Tal… S’he okay? His basketball team had like a fundraiser today we went… Some kid said he won’t walk? What the fuck?” 

“I-” Oliver falters because this isn’t the kind of middle of the night talk he’d hoped to have. He tries not to think of Talan looking half dead on the beach and on a hospital bed. “I don’t know… He had surgery so like maybe he’s-” 

“Your dads still gonna take you to Harvard?” Evan asks another question, “Cause you gotta leave in two weeks. Like is Tal gonna be okay enough so they can go? Who’s gonna take you?” 

“Um.” Oliver’s heart beats faster and his throat closes up. Thinking about the next few weeks is painful and overwhelming. He suddenly doesn’t want to be alone in a bedroom that isn’t his. “I gotta go.” 

His voice sounds as small as he feels and he hates that Evan gets to hear it. He hangs up before Evan gets another word in and he buries his phone under his pillow. 

He tries to breathe and feel his legs touching the blankets and the dog breathing beside him but being present and knowing that all of it is true hurts too much. He pulls at his hair and leans his body forward until his face is pressed against the comforter. He tries to breathe again but can’t seem to get enough air. 

Beside him, Layla licks his arm and nudges him. When he doesn’t answer she barks. 

“Stop.” Oliver tries to sound authoritative. 

She barks again and it takes thirty seconds before Caleb is back in the room. 

“Oliver.” Caleb calls out, he doesn’t try to sit on the bed or to touch him, “You’re safe.” 

“I wanted news.” Oliver gasps out, “I wanted to know if he was like sleeping or if he- I can’t get past the menu-” 

“I know.” Caleb sympathizes, “Here take your phone. I’ll show you how. Stop hurting yourself Babe.” 

Caleb sits back close to Oliver and carefully pries his hands out of his hair. He waits for Oliver to sit up. 

“You have to exit out.” Caleb explains when Oliver presents his phone, “Dial again.” 

Oliver dials again and frowns when he’s greeted by the same pre-recorded message he’s heard a dozen times. 

“Say Directory.” Caleb instructs, “Then wait for the tone.” 

Oliver follows the instructions. 

“I don’t know the ICU number.” Caleb admits, “But there’s volunteers if you press eight and then five. Wait for it to ring, then ask about Talan.” 

Oliver does as he’s told and waits until someone answers. When they do he hands the phone over to Caleb to let him talk. 

“Ok hang on.” Caleb says once he’s inquired about Talan, “She’s checking her file to make sure we gave her the right info and then she’ll tell you. Here.” 

He hands the phone back to Oliver who puts it on speaker and reaches back to pull at his hair. 

“No.” Caleb’s hand closes around Oliver’s wrist taking it away from his hair, “You don’t hurt yourself.” 

“Hi?” A new voice says over the phone, “Information on-” 

“Yeah.” Oliver interrupts, “My brother.” 

“He is in fair stable condition.” The voice answers, “He’s resting comfortably.” 

“Thank you.” Oliver breathes out, “Thanks.” 

Oliver hangs up and lets out a breath. His hands shake as he puts the phone back under his pillow and draws his legs up to his chest. 

“Better?” Caleb asks. 

Oliver nods. 

“I can stay here with you.” Caleb offers, “Or you can come down with me and wait for your dad.” 

Oliver doesn’t feel like being alone anymore and he wants to fight off sleep as long as he can. He kicks off the blankets and gets out of bed. 

“We’ll watch a movie.” Caleb suggests, “Come on.” 

*

Oliver is asleep on the couch when Michael arrives. Covered by a cable knit Brown University blanket and half of Layla’s body. 

“I should tell him about Tal.” Michael thinks aloud as he stands between the kitchen and the living room watching his teenager sleep, “He’d want to know.” 

“No.” Caleb refuses, “It took awhile to get him to sleep.” 

Michael’s reasons for wanting to wake Oliver up are mostly selfish. He wants to see first hand that Oliver is okay and talking and normal. Wants to assure himself that they’d made the right decision by sending him here. 

“Mike he knows.” Caleb promises, “We called and got updates, he’s okay.” 

“Did he take pills?” Michael asks, hoping that maybe Oliver is doing well enough to be free of the prescription the psychologist had given him. 

“Yeah.” Caleb answers, “He took one to sleep about an hour ago.” 

“Okay.” Michael tries to not sound disappointed, “He’s okay?” 

“He’s having a tough time.” Caleb chooses to be honest, “He had a good day. He had a really good day. But he’s had a rough night.” 

Michael rubs a hand on the back of his neck and looks at Oliver unsure. 

“He’s sleeping.” Caleb says again, “He’ll be awake tomorrow. Come eat.” 

Michael is about to answer that he isn’t hungry but the truth is that he’s starving. He follows Caleb to the kitchen and sits on one of the kitchen stools like he’s a kid and waits. 

“Ryan’s with Talan?” Caleb asks. 

“I don’t want to talk about Ryan.” Michael says. 

Michael doesn’t add the next part that he doesn’t want to talk about Ryan with Caleb. 

“How’s Tal?” Caleb changes the subject. 

“He’s okay.” Michael answers and it feels good to be able to say that Talan is doing better, “He was talking and kind of confused but we got him to calm down. He’d been sleeping for a while when I left. Someone had to come back for Ols.”

“He’ll be happy you’re here.” Caleb nods, handing Michael a plate. “He wants to go to the hospital tomorrow.” 

“Yeah we’ll see.” Michael stares down at the food and tries to come up with the energy to eat, “If he’s okay.” 

Michael’s hunger wins out over his exhaustion and he picks up a fork and starts to eat. He’s halfway through the meal before Caleb talks again. 

“Once things are better with Tal you and Ryan will be okay.” Caleb comforts, “It’s hard when kids are sick.” 

Michael just shrugs. 

“Talan’s going to need both of you.” Caleb tries to counsel, “If you-” 

“I’m gonna get Oliver back to bed.” Michael drops his fork and grabs his plate to bring it to the dishwasher, “I’ll stay with him.” 

“Mike stop.” Caleb stops him, “You can’t just throw your marriage-” 

“Stop.” Michael says angrily, “You don’t know.” 

“Ryan’s doing his best.” Caleb defends him, “What happened was-” 

“I know.” Michael would yell but Oliver is asleep twenty feet away, “Okay. I know what he saw and what happened and I’m sorry we found out which kid he loves more and what’s more important to him. He’s doing fuck all for me and for Oliver. I’m like… What you and Bruce did for Tal I’m never gonna be able to-” He stops. 

“Mike-” 

“Thanks but it’s not-” Michael stops again, “It’s not just this.” 

Michael makes it halfway to Oliver before he knows he can’t wake up his kid. Oliver is sleeping peacefully and Michael can’t bring himself to wake him up and deal with getting him to go back to sleep. 

He turns around back into the kitchen. 

“Second door to the right up the stairs.” Caleb points out, “It’s set up for you and Ry.” 

“Thanks.” Michael chooses not to mention Ryan again. “Oliver’s good sleeping here?” 

“Yeah.” Caleb reassures, “The dog’s gonna stay with him. She was a therapy dog, she knows what to do.” 

Michael is too tired to argue about a Golden Retriever taking care of his kid. He grabs his phone off the counter. 

“Night.” He says to Caleb, “Thanks.”

“Call him.” Caleb says, starting to wipe down the perfectly clean counter. “Don’t go to bed without calling him.” 

Michael starts to walk up the stairs and half expects the dog to follow him because all the dogs at home seemingly always end up in bed with Ryan and him but Layla doesn’t even look up from where her head is resting on Oliver’s chest. 

Their room has their things in it and Michael catches sight of familiar photographs on the dresser. There are school pictures of Talan and Oliver, a picture of Ryan and him out on a boat. There’s a picture from the cruise that had brought both families together. Talan is still a white blonde baby in a turtle printed rash guard swim shirt and Oliver is a too tall four-year-old. He picks that picture up and props up it next to the bed. 

He showers, changes clothes and feels useless. He’d left the hospital to be with Oliver and Oliver is asleep. 

He gets in bed and takes his phone, hesitating about whether to call Ryan or not. He finally decides to call because he knows Ryan’s phone won’t be on. He knows he’ll get his voicemail. 

He does get Ryan’s voicemail and Ryan’s sunny, happy voice tells him to leave a message and that he’ll catch him later or whatever. Ryan’s message hasn’t changed much since they were eighteen. 

“Hey.” Michael whispers to not wake up anyone else, “I got here okay. Ols is sleeping… I’m gonna head to bed I guess?” 

He thinks of hanging up and then thinks of Caleb’s words. 

“You have to sleep too.” He adds, “Maybe go to the hotel? I know you don’t wanna leave Tal but he’s gonna sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow; I’ll call to check on Tal. Love you- Um bye.” 

He says I love you because he always does, he says it to Ryan, to Oliver and to Talan after every phone call and it’s a heart habit to break. This time though it feels awkward. He’s not sure he means it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am definitely not a nurse or a doctor so I claim zero medical accuracy. I deeply apologize if the inaccuracies take away from the fic but if I made sure everything was true life ready I would need a 24/7 medical consult on stand by and I'm sure the fic would be really boring. If it takes away from the story for you then I'm sorry... I hear Scrubs did a good job.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My lovelies, 
> 
> It was never my intention for chapters to come on a monthly basis. This year has been ridiculously busy and I was taking a class on top of my already pretty demanding real life job. The class is over as of Friday so I should be able to get back to a more balanced posting schedule. 
> 
> I write everyday, even if all I manage to get out is a sentence. I've essentially been staring at this chapter for the past few months and I'm... over it. Half an hour ago I considered scrapping it. 
> 
> I'm sorry I haven't been updating as regularly as I should. I'm sorry other fics have fallen to the wayside. I'm currently working on a few new things that I hope to post soon. 
> 
> This chapter went through quite a transformation in the past 24 hours. A bunch of scenes were taken out and I will probably post them at my fanfic tumblr (Lillsfanfic) over the next few days if you want to check it out. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, for leaving kudos and commenting. Knowing you love it makes the challenge of getting this fic out of my head and writing it down worth it. 
> 
> Love you!

Caleb is already making breakfast when Oliver wakes up the next morning, Oliver sits up on the couch and Layla wags her tail at him a few times before taking off running towards the kitchen. 

“Dude.” Nat laughs at Oliver from the kitchen. “She wouldn’t leave you, she’s like two hours late for her walk.” 

Oliver yawns and listens to the backdoor being opened and Caleb ushering Layla outdoors. The door closes and he listens to the sound of kitchen cabinets being opened. The living room smells like coffee and pancakes. It’s comforting and familiar. He feels better.

Nat walks out of the kitchen holding two coffee mugs; he’s already drinking from one of them. He stops when hot liquid threatens to spill over the edge of the cups. 

“My dad’s making pancakes.” He informs Oliver, “And like scrambled eggs.”

“It’s nice my dads like burn toast.” Oliver moves to one side of the couch and takes the blanket with him. He grabs the coffee cup Nat is holding out to him. “Thanks.”

“Don’t get stoked it’s decaf.” Nat rolls his eyes, “My dad thinks my dad drinks too much coffee so he switches it and thinks he doesn’t notice.” 

Nat sits down beside him. He digs in the couch cushions to find the remote and starts flicking through channels. 

“What you wanna watch?” Nat asks, “Might be a game.” 

“Not sports.” Oliver requests, “I don’t wanna see my face. They still play that dumb commercial.” 

“It’s my time now.” Nat jokingly imitates Oliver’s voice. “I’m doing this for-” 

“Shut up.” Oliver delivers a swift kick to Nat’s thigh. 

“How did it feel though like seriously.” Nat asks. 

“Shooting an ESPN commercial?” Oliver takes a sip of coffee, “The water was cold.”

“No winning.” 

“Good.” Oliver answers honestly, “I like winning.” 

“We still have those races saved.” Nat clicks away from the channel guide and goes to browse the PVR, “Dude we should watch one.” 

Oliver had re-watched some of his races with coaches in the athletes’ village and had tried to look like he’d been paying attention to the advice they’d had about his kicks and his turns and how many breaths to take per length of the pool. 

Oliver doesn’t particularly want to re-watch them now. He yawns, takes another sip of coffee and stretches. He leans his head back over the arm of the couch and looks outside at the driveway. He sees their rental parked behind Nat’s car and sits back up straight. 

“No it’s okay.” Oliver says distracted. “Is my dad here?” 

“One of them’s gotta be.” Nat answers looking outside, “Seriously I’m making you watch one of your races. Which one was the best?” 

“I don’t care.” Oliver shrugs, “Like the first one.” 

“Yeah!” Nat smiles, happy that Oliver is finally into his plan, “My dad cried dude, like both of ‘em. They didn’t cry when B got into med school.”

“Yeah.” Oliver tries to sound enthusiastic, “My dads cried too.”

“Here we go.” Nat hits play and waits for the video to play back. “You’re gonna be stoked. It was so cool.” 

“Good morning and welcome,” The volume on the television is too loud for morning and Nat quickly scrambles to lower it. “To the first day of competition here in Rotterdam.” The recording continues at a more tolerable level. 

“Nathaniel.” Caleb walks into the living room, “What are you doing.” 

“We’re watching Oliver win a gold medal.” Nat answers not shocked by the full name treatment he’s getting, “It’s a good idea.” 

Oliver has never seen the broadcast footage of his races. He’s never seen close ups of the crowds or of his family. It’s an entirely new thing to watch. 

“It’s fine.” Oliver answers, “I haven’t seen this.” 

“Breakfast is ready.” Caleb tells them, “Come eat before it’s cold.” 

“He wins in like a minute.” Nat explains, “One minute and we’re there.” 

“Oliver is currently coached by Bowman, formerly by Ryan Lochte. Michael Phelps surprisingly not listed as a coach-” The broadcast continues. 

“They said my dad didn’t coach me?” Oliver asks horrified, “That’s bullshit, he was like… at the pool everyday.” 

“You told people that afterwards.” Nat consoles, “Like people who know know. Don’t worry ‘bout it.” 

“That’s still fucked.” Oliver shakes his head. 

“Boys.” Caleb calls out again, “Breakfast is ready.” 

“He just needs to win.” Nat calls back, “Hang on.” 

“No.” Oliver drinks the last of his coffee, “We don’t have to-” 

“If you look to Lochte’s left,” The broadcast cuts from shots of the announcers to a shot of the stand, “you can see younger brother Talan who just took his seat-” 

The camera focuses on Talan who’s fidgeting. Oliver can tell he’s uncomfortable and nervous. He hasn’t seen Talan since after his surgery. Hasn’t talked to him since he’d woken up. Hasn’t been able to face the ICU. 

“I’m gonna go eat.” Oliver tells Nat. “I don’t wanna watch it.” 

“Dude.” Nat doesn’t pause the race and the camera pans away from Talan to focus on Michael. He realizes that this hadn’t been a smart idea. “I forgot I didn’t-” 

“No it’s okay.” Oliver reassures. 

Oliver drinks the last sip of his coffee, kicks the blankets off and stands up. He makes his way into the kitchen just as the broadcast cuts the commercial. 

He eats breakfast as the race starts and Caleb puts down his medication in front of his plate as he wins a gold medal. He pushes it to the side as the sound of his family cheering echoes out from the living room. 

*

Michael wakes up hours later than his alarm. His first reaction is to check his phone. He’s horrified by the thought that he might have slept through important updates on Talan. 

There are no messages, missed calls or unanswered text messages. The alarm alert is still silently going and he turns it off before resting his phone back on the bedside table. 

He puts a shirt on and walks to check on Oliver but finds Oliver’s bedroom empty. Oliver’s bag is still on the floor and his clothes are folded on top of the bed but Oliver is nowhere to be found. 

The house is quiet and Michael makes his way downstairs. He finds Bruce reading the paper in the kitchen. 

“Where’s Oliver?” Michael asks before he even thinks of saying hello. 

“Out with Nat.” Bruce fills in, “They’ve been gone for an hour. Both of them were up early.” 

It’s late morning but there’s still coffee made, Michael walks over to get a cup but Bruce stops him. 

“It’s decaf.” Bruce warns, “Don’t bother.” 

Michael stands holding the coffee pot uselessly. He decides to pour himself a cup anyways. 

“Caleb thinks I drink too much caffeine so he switches and thinks I don’t notice.” Bruce explains, “I notice.” 

Bruce puts down his newspaper, gets up, walks to a cupboard and pulls out a different coffee bag. He takes Michael’s cup and empties it into the sink before pouring the entire pot of decaf coffee down the drain too. He rinses it and starts making a fresh pot.

“He worries too much.” Bruce explains, “I semi-retired so he wouldn’t worry and now that I’m home more often it just seems to make him worry more. It used to be about the boys but with Nat leaving in two weeks I’m scared I’ll be eating tofu and drinking herbal tea for the rest of my life.” 

It’s meant to be a joke but Michael doesn’t laugh. He stands too quiet in the middle of the unnaturally clean kitchen and tries to be okay with not knowing where Oliver is.

“Everything alright?” Bruce asks, measuring out tablespoons of coffee into the filter, “Talan was awake when I called ICU for an update, I’m heading in for a meeting later I’ll drop by and see him.” 

“I thought Oliver would be down here.” Michael admits, “That he’d still be sleeping or he would have come to find me.” 

“They were both up early.” Bruce says, “Caleb made them breakfast. He knows you’re here. Come sit down are you hungry?”

“No thanks.” Michael brushes off the offer of food, “Just coffee.” 

“Five minutes.” Bruce promises. 

The house is too quiet and the morning too normal. Michael can hear someone walking around upstairs, going from room to room and closing doors. 

“Caleb.” Bruce explains, “It’s too quiet I know. With Nat leaving for school it’s going to be like this all the time…You and Ry will still have Talan but we’re just going to have an empty house.” 

“I don’t know how we’re going to get Oliver to Harvard.” Michael admits, “If Tal’s still in the hospital we can’t-” 

“He’ll be home.” Bruce assures, “Give him a week. You can have a nurse come to the house for his medication and someone’s going to drive him the therapy. You and Ry will bring Oliver to college and some time alone together will-” 

“How much therapy do you think it’s going to take?” Michael asks because he’s not ready to think of leaving Talan to bring Oliver to Harvard or of having to spend time alone with Ryan. 

“We’ll just wait and see.” Bruce says dodging the actual question, “Let him heal up and see how it goes. One day at a time remember? Small steps.” 

Helping Talan get back to normal is something that’s easy to focus on. It’s a process that can be broken down into steps. Michael can hire people and set up appointments and search for specialists. It has nothing to do with feelings. There are measurable goals and progress. It’s something Michael knows he can handle. 

When the fresh pot of coffee is ready and Bruce pours them both a cup. He takes Michael’s cup to the kitchen table and Michael follows him. 

“Where did Oliver go?” Michael asks sitting down. He glances into the backyard and can’t see anyone out there. 

“With Nat’s friends.” Bruce guesses, “Caleb will know… I was on a call when they left.” 

Michael drinks his coffee and forces himself to relax about Oliver. If Oliver is out it means that Oliver is doing better. He focuses on that, drinks his coffee and decides to call the hospital to get an update on Talan. 

“He’s stable.” Bruce confirms when Michael hangs up, “But they want him in ICU to keep an eye on him.” 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees, “That’s what they said. His oxygen levels are good.”

“About Talan?” Caleb asks. 

Caleb walks into the kitchen and looks around. His eyes narrow on the contraband bag of caffeinated coffee still on his counter. 

“Bruce.” He says disappointed. 

“The kids drank the fake stuff.” Bruce answers, “Mike needs the caffeine.” 

“The kids’ cardiologist didn’t tell them to lay off the caffeine.” Caleb remarks. 

Caleb ignores the coffee. He leaves the bag out on the counter and walks to the table and sits across from Michael. 

“Did you want something to eat?” Caleb offers, “Breakfast was early for the boys but it’s-” 

“No just coffee.” Michael assures, “I have to get back to take over for Ryan.” 

“I talked to Ryan this morning.” Caleb notes, “Talan was awake, he was eating Jello.” 

Caleb looks at Michael expectantly, like he’s waiting for him to ask a question. When Michael doesn’t Caleb speaks first. 

“Ryan sounded alright too.” Caleb grabs two coasters from the middle of the table. He puts one under each coffee cup before talking again, “Tired, I told him to come here tonight. I’ll drive up to-” 

“Where’s Oliver?” Michael interrupts to change the subject instead of mentioning that Ryan still hasn’t returned the phone call Caleb had insisted he make late last night.

Michael is afraid of what he might say or hear if they keep talking about Ryan. He doesn’t want to think that there’s something more between Caleb and Ryan. He really hopes that Ryan isn’t stupid enough to try and break up two marriages. 

“He ate breakfast with Nat.” Bruce repeats the only piece of information he knows. 

“Enough breakfast too.” Caleb adds, “More than he’s eaten since we got him. He slept until 8 so he got enough sleep too. He was good.” 

“I thought he’d be with me.” Michael repeats, “He’s been off so-” 

“No he was okay.” Caleb reassures, “Nat was going out boating with some of his friends. I told Oliver he could join them. Get some sun, feel better.” 

“You didn’t say they were on a boat.” Bruce looks at Caleb accusingly, “He’s not-” 

“He’s not driving the boat.” Caleb pacifies, “They’re both wearing sunscreen… I just thought it would do Oliver some good. I hope it’s okay.” 

It isn’t okay. Michael doesn’t like that he hasn’t talked to Oliver in more than a day. That he has to take Caleb’s word on how Oliver is doing. 

Michael selfishly wants Oliver to be with him. 

“Ryan said it was okay.” Caleb explains.

Michael is done. 

Ryan doesn’t bother updating him on Talan, Ryan doesn’t bother returning his messages, and Ryan doesn’t bother to call, pretend to care or try to act like an adult. Ryan won’t pull his fair share of the weight or willingly take care of himself. Ryan however seems perfectly fine with talking to Caleb. Michael is furious that Ryan has the time to talk to Caleb about Talan and Oliver but no time to return his call

“Ryan doesn’t make decisions about Oliver.” Michael snaps. 

His angry voice sounds louder in the still quiet house. Michael tightens his grip around his coffee cup and tries to calm down. He has a hard time controlling his anger. He finds it humiliating that even when he’s the parent in charge, Caleb and Ryan still go over his head. That somehow Ryan has managed to be in control again. 

“I’ll call Nat and tell him to bring Oliver back.” Bruce offers to mediate the situation, “They don’t go far it’ll be ten minutes.” 

“No.” Michael stops him. “I don’t want Oliver to think something’s wrong. It’s fine.” 

Michael knows that Caleb and Bruce are doing what’s been asked of them, that they’re taking care of Oliver like he’s one of their own children. He knows that without Bruce’s help Talan wouldn’t have gotten the level of care he’s received. They owe Talan’s life to their family. 

“I’m sorry Mike.” Caleb apologizes, “I thought it wouldn’t matter. You’re both his parents.”

“I just-” Michael starts trying to explain, “I want to make sure Oliver is okay. The other day he really wasn’t. You said you had trouble getting him to sleep. I wake up and he isn’t here.” 

“No, he had a good morning.” Caleb reassures, “Nat and him swam out to the boat, they raced. Oliver won.” 

“That’s Oliver.” Michael agrees. “Did he take the meds?” 

“No.” Caleb answers, “He thought he’d be okay without them so we let him try. Nat’s going to look out for him. He’s a good kid Mike.”

“When he’s not crashing the boat into the sea wall.” Bruce replies. 

“Yeah that wasn’t his best.” Caleb agrees, “But he’s not driving today.” 

“He won’t let anything happen to Oliver.” Bruce vouches for their son too, “Don’t worry Mike. Ols is good.” 

He can’t stop worrying. Michael is worried about Oliver, he’s worried about Talan, and he’s worried about his marriage, about Ryan and about the logistics of the situation. He doesn’t know how long his family is planning to stay with them, doesn’t know how they’ll get Talan from Miami back to Daytona when he’s well enough to go home. He doesn’t know how they’ll find time to get Oliver ready for Harvard. 

He doesn’t want to worry about Ryan but he can’t help it. He’s angry and hurt. Ryan’s disregard for him is more hurtful than he’s willing to admit. They’re supposed to be a team and Ryan’s given up and dropped everything. For the second time in their relationship and for the first time since they’d gotten back together before Oliver was born Michael feels totally alone. 

Caleb and Bruce have started talking about something unrelated to him. Michael pushes his chair back and stands up.

“I’m going to call Ryan.” Michael says excusing himself. 

Michael leaves his half full coffee cup on the coaster and grabs the phone from the kitchen counter. His own cell is fully charged but he knows Ryan will probably ignore his calls to avoid a fight. It’s what Ryan’s always done and it doesn’t surprise Michael as much as it should that their child being in the ICU hasn’t change that habit. 

Michael waits until he’s upstairs to call. He tries twice and gets Ryan’s voicemail both times. He can’t leave a message because Ryan’s voicemail is full. 

Michael is on his way back to the kitchen when the phone rings. Ryan’s number pops up on the caller ID so he answers. 

“Sorry.” Ryan apologizes as soon as the line connects. He sounds breathless, “I had to leave the ICU to call, Talan went for x-rays.” 

“Why?” Michael asks. 

“Mike?” Ryan asks confused. 

“Yeah.” Michael turns around and heads back upstairs. He doesn’t bother with the accusations he’d been planning to throw at Ryan, “Why Xrays? I just called they didn’t say anything.” 

“For his chest tube.” Ryan explains, “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong?” Michael asks again just to be sure. 

Michael closes the bedroom door and starts to pack. He ignores Ryan’s things and leaves them on the floor. 

“No, they want to take it out so they have to take an x-ray first. It’s good.” 

“And that’s it?” Michael enquires, “They’re taking his chest tube out and he’s fine?” 

“No.” Ryan answers and the worry in his voice is evident, “He has a low-grade fever, they’re keeping an eye on it… He’s not in a good mood… He was eating a bit this morning but now he’s not.”

Michael remembers waiting for Ryan to make his way to Miami. He remembers painstakingly writing down everything the doctors told him so that Ryan would know exactly what was going on. He knows Ryan isn’t writing anything down and that Ryan probably isn’t bothering to remember the details. Medical terms sound odd coming out of Ryan’s mouth and Michael is sure there are gaps in what he’s being told. 

“So nothing’s good.” Michael says aggravated, only halfway done shoving his things back into his carry on bag. “He’s not feeling good and he has a fever and you didn’t call. You called Caleb but not me.” 

“We keep fighting.” Ryan reminds him, “I can’t do it.” 

Because you’re fucking worthless Michael thinks but forces himself not to say. He feels that the silence that follows speaks volumes about his current opinions on Ryan. 

“Yeah whatever.” Ryan fills in. 

Michael is sure that Ryan has some unspoken words of his own. He remembers the message he’d left last night. He hates that he’d followed Caleb’s advice and held out an olive branch. 

Michael wants to get out. He wants to take Oliver and leave because he suddenly knows which side Caleb and Bruce would fall on if Ryan and him were to officially bring in lawyers. Michael wants Oliver away from people who he knows would take Ryan’s side. It’s hard for him to not accuse Ryan of having ulterior motives. 

“I gotta go back.” Ryan interrupts Michael’s thinking, “If you-” 

“Oliver is better.” Michael offers because Ryan isn’t asking. 

“I know.” Ryan tells him, “I called to check on him.”

“No you called Caleb.” Michael snaps, “You called Caleb so he would make you feel better and he told you about Oliver.” 

“Yeah I did.” Ryan says defensively, “’Cause you ain’t.” 

“I don’t have time Ryan.” Michael says inpatient. “I’ll come take over. I’m bringing Oliver.” 

“Leave Oliver there.” Ryan says roughly, “Oliver’s fine-” 

“No Oliver can stay with Hilary.” Michael decides, “You had to go.” 

Michael hangs up because he’s more than fed up with Ryan. Between New York and Costa Rica he’d been set on reconciliation. He’d been committed to going to therapy and talking things through. Of getting Oliver to Harvard and then buckling down and working on the things Ryan and him had stopped working on. He’d been set on working through Ryan’s drinking and to support him through recovery if his problem was bad enough to warrant serious help. 

He loves Ryan, he’s always loved Ryan but it isn’t enough anymore. 

*

Oliver walks back into the kitchen from the backyards two hours later. He’s wet and laughing along with Nat. His smile fades when he sees Michael waiting for him with both their bags packed. 

“I didn’t know you were waiting for me.” Oliver says guilty, “I thought I wasn’t… I woke up and... I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Michael reassures, “Get ready and we’ll go.” 

“Go where?” Oliver asks, “I’m okay here.” 

“Talan wants to see you.” Michael lies, “So I thought we’d go together.”

Michael is appealing to Oliver’s sense of responsibility. He knows that as safe as Oliver feels with Caleb and Bruce and as much as he might want to stay he’ll give it up to do what’s expected of him. 

Michael feels guilty that he’s manipulating his kid into going back to the hospital. He knows that this move isn’t about to win him any parenting awards but he needs Oliver out of a situation that’s being controlled by Ryan. 

Oliver doesn’t look sure. 

“Nat?” Caleb calls from his office down the hall, “Babe is that you?” 

Nat is still standing beside Oliver. Both of them are dripping water on the tiled kitchen floor. Nat looks just as unsure about Michael’s plan as Oliver. 

“Yeah it’s me.” Nat yells back, “Didn’t crash anything.” 

“That’s good.” Caleb says, his voice getting closer to the kitchen. 

Caleb walks in holding two towels. He glances at the packed bags by the table and avoids looking at Michael. 

“Here babe.” Caleb hands Oliver a towel before handing one to Nat, “Dry off. How was your day?”

“We tried fishing.” Nat talks as he runs the towel through his hair, “Didn’t catch anything, huge waves though, we we’re gonna try to go to the beach later but Ols has to go.”

“He can stay here.” Caleb answers before turning to Oliver, “Babe you can stay here it’s not a problem. 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head, “Talan said he wanted me to go so I gotta-” 

Caleb narrows his eyes and looks beyond Oliver to Michael. 

“Well Bruce is at work.” Caleb says looking back at Oliver, “So if you want to come back just call and he can bring you. You can have Layla again tonight. Do you want lunch?” 

“We have to get going.” Michael doesn’t give Oliver the chance to answer, “We’re going to stay near the hospital tonight, be closer to Talan.” 

“And Dad.” Oliver adds. 

“Yeah.” Michael halfheartedly agrees with Oliver, “And Ry.” 

It’s awkward. The kitchen is quiet for a few seconds until Oliver wraps his towel around his waist and steps off the rug by the back door. 

“I’m gonna go shower.” Oliver announces. He eyes his bag on the floor, “D’you pack my stuff too?” 

“Yeah.” Michael admits. He grabs Oliver’s arm to stop him. “I left some clothes out for you.” He adds.

“Usually I pick those out myself.” Oliver says skeptically, “But thanks.” 

“You can take your time.” Michael calls out after him, “Don’t stress Ols.”

“Go change too.” Caleb urges Nat, “I’ll make you lunch.” 

Once both kids are out of the kitchen, Caleb walks over to a cupboard and takes out Oliver’s two prescription bottles. He puts them down in front of Michael. 

“He still needs them to sleep.” He sits across from Michael, “He had nightmares last night. I don’t think he’s ready to-” 

“If he doesn’t want to go he’ll say it.” Michael decides, “I know him.” 

Caleb looks like he wants to say something but he stays quiet. Michael knows that he’ll call Ryan as soon as Oliver and him are gone. 

“Thanks for taking care of him.” Michael offers because he is grateful, “He looks better.” 

“He woke up screaming.” Caleb reveals, “Before he came to sleep downstairs last night. He’s a good pretender Mike. He knows what you want to see. He doesn’t want you to worry.” 

“I want everyone together.” Michael lies, “I’ll keep an eye on him, my sister is here to look after him. He’s going to be okay.” 

Michael can see he’s not convincing Caleb but at this point he’s not sure he can fully convince himself that this is a good idea. 

“I’m gonna go pack the car.” Michael says even though there are only two bags, “Ry’s stuff can stay here.” 

He grabs both bags and walks out of the kitchen fast. It takes him thirty seconds to put the bags in the trunk of the car. He chooses to stay outside. He leans against the driver’s door and checks his emails until Oliver walks out ten minutes later. 

“Hey Bud.” Michael smiles at him and puts his phone away, “Ready to go?” 

“Um yeah.” Oliver still sounds skeptical, “I need another shirt though this one’s too short.” 

“Grab your bag and look through it on our way.” Michael tells him, “I wanna get going okay?” 

Oliver doesn’t move any closer to the car. He looks at Michael hesitantly and starts to chew his thumbnail. 

“Is something wrong?” Oliver asks suspicious. “Like with Talan? I don’t get why we have to go right now. Dad said I could stay here. I want to-” 

“Nothing’s wrong Ols.” Michael reassures, “I promise.” 

“Is Talan still in ICU?” Oliver asks Michael. 

“Yeah.” Michael says regrettably, “He had two surgeries so he’s still getting better.” 

“Then I want to stay here.” Oliver requests, “I don’t want to be in the ICU.” 

Oliver looks pained and Michael feels desperate. He doesn’t want to leave Oliver behind.

“You don’t have to go Ols.” Michael offers, “I can drop you off at the hotel. If you want to go home with Aunt Hil that’s fine. It’s up to you. If you want to go to Baltimore with Grandma. We’ll make it work.” 

“No.” Oliver refuses, “I don’t want to go. I want to stay here.” 

Michael sees Oliver’s composure break a little. Oliver’s body tenses up and his eyes narrow. 

Michael tries to hide his frustration. He doesn’t want Oliver to feel like he’s doing something wrong. For a brief moment he thinks of leaving Oliver behind, of letting him run back inside to get ready to go to the beach. He forces himself to remember that Caleb has already chosen to be on Ryan’s side. That leaving Oliver here means giving up control. Michael wants Oliver with his family.

“Staying here s‘not an option right now Bud.” Michael says regrettably. “We have to go back.”

“If you’re forcing me to go it means something’s bad.” Oliver quietly justifies, “Like Tal’s really sick or he needs more surgery.” 

“Talan’s fine.” Michael promises, “He’s sleeping a lot but he can sit up and talk. Dad said he asked where you were yesterday. It be good to go see him if you can. We can bring him a milkshake.” 

“I don’t wanna go.” Oliver insists.

“We have to go Ols.” Michael says as gently as he can. “Talan wants to see you, it’ll make him happy.” 

Oliver stays silent. He doesn’t move forward towards the car or backwards to run back to the house. He looks defeated and for a second Michael wants to tell him to just go back inside. 

Instead, Michael steps forward and gently pulls on Oliver’s arm. 

“Come on.” Michael says guiding Oliver towards the passenger side of the car, “Let’s go.” 

Oliver follows without much resistance. He sits in the car after Michael’s opened the door and does up his seat belt without making a move to escape. His behavior somehow makes Michael feel worse about what he’s doing. 

“You said you needed a shirt.” Michael remembers just as he’s about to close the car door, “I’ll get your bag.” 

Michael knows the choice he’s made isn’t the best choice for Oliver’s well being. He tries to forget about it as he takes Oliver’s bag from the trunk and carries it around to the driver’s side. 

“Here.” Michael hands him the bag as soon as he opens his door, “Look for a shirt.” 

Michael hadn’t bothered to take the time to fold any of the clothes he’d packed for Oliver and Oliver’s disdain for his packing skills is evident. 

Michael starts the car while Oliver is still picking out a new shirt. He’s passed the gates of the community where Bruce and Caleb live before he talks to his son. 

“If there’s nothing we can stop to buy one.” Michael offers. “Stop for lunch.”

“No.” Oliver refuses. “We have to go see Tal. I’m not hungry.”

Michael keeps driving. He steals occasional sideways glances at Oliver and every time he regrets his decision to bring Oliver back to the hospital a little more. 

He watches Oliver pick out a grey USA Swimming t-shirt to wear. When he changes, Michael sees for the first time that Oliver’s shoulder is bruised around his stitches. Oliver winces as he tries to get his arm into the new shirt and Michael signals to pull over on the side of the road. 

“Here.” He says holding the shirt open and helping Oliver get his arm through the sleeve, “Maybe someone else should look at your arm.”

“My arm’s fine.” Oliver says. “No one needs to look at it.” 

“Oliver.” Michael starts.

“What?” Oliver answers and he sounds beyond exasperated.

“ I’ll bring you back.” Michael decides, “I’m sorry I-” 

“No.” Oliver refuses, “We gotta go see Tal.” 

Michael squeezes the steering wheel hard. He hesitates for a moment before pulling back into traffic. He drives to the hospital. 

*

Oliver spends most of the drive to the hospital preparing for the ICU. He tries to visualize it like he’s been taught to do for races. Like he visualizes how many strokes it takes him to get to the wall he imagines walking into Talan’s room and sitting down. He tries to remember everything he’d researched about the ICU and the machines Talan was hooked up to. He tries to forget how grey Talan’s skin had looked and how much blood had been left on the beach. He remembers watching the helicopter take off and realizing he was alone with no way back to the hotel. Oliver’s breathing hitches and his dad instinctively reaches over to rub his shoulder. 

Oliver misses the numbness he’d felt on the medication he’d chosen not to take that morning. He thinks of asking for it but refuses to admit that he needs help. 

They stop along to way to get lunch and to order a milkshake for Talan. Oliver doesn’t eat instead he focuses all his attention on making sure the milkshake stays close to the air conditioning vents so that it’s still frozen for Talan. 

Oliver tips the milkshake cup forward against the vent and turns the air conditioning up. It makes his skin break out in goose bumps.

“They gave me ice.” Michael says once he’s opened his car door, “For the milkshake.” 

He’s holding a plastic bag full of ice out to Oliver who takes it and arranges it to cover as much of the milkshake cup as he can. Once Oliver is happy with his work Michael has already merged back onto the highway. 

“I got you a burger.” Michael points to the brown paper bag still on his lap, “You have to eat.” 

“I’m not hungry.” Oliver brushes off the offer of food, “Keep it for dad.” 

“We’ll go eat after we see Tal.” Michael decides. 

Oliver nods uninterested and turns away from Michael to stare out of the window. He bites his nails even though the tips of his fingers are painful.

“Don’t.” Michael says reaching blindly to take Oliver’s hand away from his mouth. “Do you want music?” 

“No.” Oliver refuses, “It’s okay.” 

The car is too silent and Oliver closes his eyes and tries to visualize the ICU again. He gets stuck again on grey skin, blood and the helicopter taking off. He opens his eyes wide and tries to focus on anything other than the beach. He squeezes Michael’s hand. 

“I wonder if they sent your dorm assignment yet.” Michael jabbers on trying to keep Oliver engaged, “Find out who your roommate is. Dad’s first roommate was from Idaho, they still talk sometimes I think. I didn’t stay in dorms so I didn’t have-” 

“It’s electronic.” Oliver fills in, “I have five. One of them is from Vermont. He snowboards.” 

Oliver rolls his head away from the window to look at Michael annoyed. He shakes his head at him. 

“Did you guys pick bunks?” Michael changes the subject, “Do you have the list of what you need.” 

“I get a bed.” Oliver informs him, “It’s a suite so there’s rooms and we all share the living room or whatever.” 

“Girls?” Michael asks not remembering the parent info night as well as he wishes. 

“Maybe.” Oliver manages to smile, “In the building.” 

“Do you have laundry?” Michael worries, “We have to teach you to do laundry.” 

“I know how to do laundry.” Oliver informs him, “I did my own at grandmas.” 

“Did you get a list?” Michael asks, “Of what you need?” 

“I have a list.” Oliver answers quietly. 

Oliver’s had a list for months. He’d started the list before the Big Envelope had come and he’d kept it with him through training in Baltimore, training camp and Rotterdam. Everything he needed to start at Harvard. Before it had seemed important, now on their way to the hospital to see Talan it doesn’t matter as much. 

“We’ll look at it together.” Michael suggests, “Start getting stuff so we’re ready to pack you up. Are you allowed your car?”

“I don’t know.” Oliver answers, his patience running thin. “I don’t even know if I wanna go.” 

“No.” Michael stops him. “We’re going to bring you to Harvard like we planned. Your dad and me and you… Talan might have to stay home but the three of us? We’re going. It’s still important Ols. Tal won’t want you to miss out on Harvard.”

“I can just push it back a semester.” Oliver offers, “I thought about it and-” 

“No Bud.” Michael stops him again. “We’re bringing you like we planned. It’s something to look forward to okay? You’re going to be at Harvard and you can AMTRAK to Baltimore on weekends and we can go to baseball games.”

“Football games.” Oliver adds. 

“Whatever you want.” Michael offers, “I’ll be down to see you all the time. As many home games as you want to go see.” 

Oliver stretches and tries to think of what his life will be like weeks from now. He tries to imagine being in his dorm at Harvard, going to class and being on his own. It’s something he’s looked forward to for so long and now he can’t help but feel sad. He’ll be at college and Talan might still be in the hospital. His parents will drop him off but they’ll be thinking of Talan. 

“It’s going to be okay.” Michael reassures Oliver, “You don’t have to worry.” 

“I do though.” Oliver admits. 

“I know.” Michael answers, “You have nightmares too yeah?” 

Oliver doesn’t answer. He turns to stare out the window and tries to force the conversation to stop. 

“If you don’t say those things we can’t help you.” Michael refuses to drop it, “What happened was scary it’s okay for you-” 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Oliver.’ Michael sighs, “You have to-” 

“No.” Oliver doesn’t turn to look at him, “I don’t.” 

“It’s scary for everyone Oliver.” Michael tries to comfort, “We all had to-” 

“D’you swim to him?” Oliver snaps. “He was stuck and I couldn’t get him out and no one was coming to help. No one else was gonna help him they we’re all just gonna watch him drown. What if I hadn’t-” 

“You did.” Michael interrupts, “What you did-” 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Oliver yells, “I don’t wanna be here. I don’t wanna go to Harvard. I don’t wanna have people worry about me. Stop.”

“Ols.” Michael reaches over to touch Oliver. 

“Don’t.” Oliver bites. 

“No.” Michael refuses. “It’s not how this works.” 

They’re one street away from the hospital. Oliver stops talking and Michael doesn’t try to engage him again. Michael parks in the shade, locks all the doors and undoes his seat belt before he turns to Oliver. 

“I worry about you.” Michael says. “It’s my job. I know you Oliver and I know when you’re having a rough time. It’s okay you’re having a rough time. We’re all having a rough time. It’s not okay to get mad at people who want to help you. You’re not going to deal with this on your own. That’s not happening.” 

Oliver pushes a button and unlocks the car doors. He looks at Michael unimpressed. 

“No.” Michael reproaches, “We’re not done.” 

“Fine.” Oliver states, “Go.” 

“You’re not mad at me.” Michael reminds him, “You’re not mad at anyone, you’re-” 

“I’m fine.” Oliver starts and stops, “I’m not going to flip out it’s just hard to deal with. I’m trying my best to figure it out and everyone’s like freaking out over me and I can’t… Just let me deal with it on my own, I’m okay.” 

“You don’t have to do it by yourself.” Michael points out, “That’s the whole thing. We’re here. You’re important. Harvard’s important-”

“Talan’s important.” Oliver adds, “Tal spent his summer doing shit for me an this happens and now people are still focusing on me. It’s not fair.” 

“You’re important too.” Michael repeats, “If you’re not okay, we’re not okay.” 

“Dad’s not okay.” Oliver points out, “He won’t wanna leave Tal to go to Harvard.” 

“He will.” Michael promises. 

“He wouldn’t stay with me.” Oliver doubts, “It’s not-” 

“I’ll be there.” Michael promises, not ready to make excuses for Ryan. “Don’t worry about that.” 

Oliver weighs Michael’s words and his offer. He shifts the milkshake around because his thighs are frozen. He considers the walk up to the ICU and seeing Talan stuck in bed. He thinks of the pills in the back of the car and thinks of asking for them. 

“Take your pills.” Michael interrupts like he’s read Oliver’s thoughts, “We can wait here until you’re okay to go up. It’s fine.” 

“I don’t wanna make you wait.” Oliver admits, “You wanna go see Tal.” 

“No.” Michael answers without pause, “I want you to be okay.” 

*

After Oliver’s taken his pill they wait in the car for twenty minutes. Michael turns the car back on and lets Oliver choose a radio station. Oliver eats the burger Michael had picked up on their way and is visibly more relaxed when he agrees to go see Talan. 

Michael’s learned to avoid the hospital lobby but they get turned around on their way out of the parking lot and the main doors are the easiest way in. It’s incredibly crowded and Michael grabs Oliver’s arm to keep him close by. 

“I’m fine.” Oliver shrugs him off embarrassed, “You don’t gotta hold my hand come on.”

Oliver isn’t wearing a hat or a hood. People’s heads start to turn as he walks through the crowd and he becomes increasingly aware of the USA swimming shirt he’d chosen to wear earlier. 

Oliver tries to keep his head down but he ends up bumping into a garbage can. 

“Fuck.” Oliver groans, “Dad wait.” 

“Stop.” A woman calls out after him before she reaches for Oliver’s arm, “You’re Oliver Phelps.” 

It’s a statement and not a question. Before Oliver can answer, the woman tightens her grip on his arm and steps closer to him. For a second Oliver watches horrified as Michael walks ahead in the crowd not noticing that he’s alone.  
“You’re Oliver Phelps.” The lady repeats. 

“Dad.” Oliver calls out after Michael, “Dad!” 

Michael turns around at the sound of Oliver’s voice. He frowns and his eyes narrow when he sees that the woman is holding onto him. He doubles back. 

“You’re Oliver Phelps.” The woman says again, more insisting. 

“Phelps-Lochte.” Oliver answers, waiting for Michael to come save him. “Yeah-” 

“Are you visiting kids?” The woman asks hopefully, “My son is here for cancer treatments but he watched all your races he would-” 

“No.” Oliver blurts out, “I’m not- My brother’s sick-” 

Oliver desperately wants to get away from her. He looks down at where her hand is gripping his arm and frowns. He tries to think of something to say to not come across as a jerk. Between Rotterdam, Costa Rica and the hospital he’d managed to forget that he’s famous. 

“His name’s Oliver too. If you could come see him it would mean everything.” The mom pleads, “You’re a hero to-” 

She tries to tighten her grip on Oliver’s arm but Michael’s hand closes around Oliver’s wrist and he manages to get Oliver’s arm free. 

“He’s not here to visit.” Michael says with authority, he puts himself between Oliver and the woman. “He has to go.” 

Michael puts an arm around Oliver’s shoulders, turns him around and walks with him at a brisk pace towards the elevators. Oliver feels like he should apologize but they’re already too far away.

“Sorry.” Michael apologizes once they’re safely in an elevator. “We shouldn’t have gone through here. I forgot.” 

“Should I go?” Oliver asks, “If it’s like-” 

“No.” Michael says firmly, “You’re not.” 

“I’m here right?” Oliver glances at the numbered floor list searching for the cancer ward, “Like with Tal we’re gonna be here awhile…I should go see kids? It’s what I’m supposed to do? If they’re sick?” 

“No.” Michael says again, “You’re supposed to feel better and be with us. We’re visiting Talan. That’s it.” 

“She said I was-” Oliver tries. 

“You’re not here as someone famous.” Michael gently explains, “You’re ours.”

Oliver isn’t sure he agrees. He can’t get the look on the woman’s face out of his mind. He thinks of how many people might have witnessed the scene and he feels ashamed. He lets Michael pull him out of the elevator and through emptier hospital hallways. Michael holds onto his hand and Oliver feels like he’s five. 

“Through here Bud.” Michael stops in front of the ICU door, “D’you want to buzz in?” 

“No.” Oliver refuses, “You do it.” 

*

Ryan waits for them right by the doors wearing the same clothes as yesterday. He’s unshaven and has dark circles under his eyes. For a second, Michael feels guilty. He can’t remember the last time he’s seen Ryan look this worn down. 

“Hey Gator.” Ryan hugs Oliver, “You look good.” 

“I’m okay.” Oliver answers. “Who’s with Tal?” 

“I was getting him ice.” Ryan says holding out the blue plastic cup.

“We got him a milkshake.” Oliver holds up the cup, “Has Oreos.” 

“Bring it to him Gators.” Ryan smiles, “He’s the second door down. His name’s on the door. I just want to talk to-” 

“Bud why don’t you go get ice.” Michael cuts in, aware that Oliver isn’t really ready to go see Talan, especially not by himself, “We’ll wait for you here, it’s just around the corner, down the hall.” 

“Okay, yeah.” Oliver agrees, reaching for the cup. “Just regular ice?” 

“Chips.” Ryan specifies, “And a spoon.”

Michael waits until Oliver is around the corner and out of earshot before he turns to Ryan. 

“I got this.” Michael tells Ryan, “Go get some sleep.” 

“No.” Ryan refuses.

“This isn’t a contest.” Michael points down the hall, “I got Talan, go shower and sleep.” 

“I’m tired.” Ryan admits, “But Tal’s got a fever still… It’s higher than this morning. They started him on antibiotics but they don’t know why it’s up… They ran some tests and we’re waiting but like… He ain’t really doing good. I didn’t wanna like tell you while you were driving it got worse an hour ago… You had Ols in the car and-” 

“Now Ols is here.” Michael groans, “Tal sleeping?” 

“On and off.” Ryan nods, “They took his chest tube out and it hurt him.”

“They hurt him?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods. 

“Fuck.” Michael swears, “S’he okay?” 

“They don’t know why he’s got a fever.” Ryan explains, “None of his stitches or his staples have infection. His oxygen levels were good this morning and now they’re down again and we can’t have ‘em put another chest tube in. He hates the oxygen. He was suppose to eat but he won’t.” 

“I told Ols he was better.” Michael groans.

Michael tries to think of a new plan but he can’t come up with anything. Oliver is here and Talan isn’t doing any better. All Michael wants is good news. All he wants is for something to go right, something to be easy. He wants a healthy Talan to be able to transfer out of the ICU to a regular room. He wants his family to be better and it’s out of his control.

“I’ll send him back with my mom.” Michael decides, “Tell him Tal’s in-” 

“Let ‘em see each other.” Ryan proposes, “Think they’re both worried, might help. Seing Gator might cheer Tal up.”

“You need to go.” Michael tries again to get Ryan to leave, “I got Tal, I’ll call you if something happens but dude you need to shower and-” 

“Not right now.” Ryan refuses again, “Wait for Ols? I’m gonna go back to Talan.” 

“Yeah.” Michael realizes that Ryan isn’t planning to leave Talan anytime soon, “Tell Tal he’s here.” 

Oliver walks back around the corner with a cup full of ice and no milkshake.   
“The nurse said he couldn’t have it.” Oliver announces looking upset, “She gave me Jello instead.” 

“It’s ok.” Michael brushes off, “We didn’t know. Let’s go see Tal come on.” 

Michael takes the cup of ice from Oliver and reaches to hold his hand. He pulls him forward again and almost has to push Oliver to get him to keep moving forward into Talan’s room. 

“Hey Babe.” Michael calls out as he walks into Talan’s room, “Look who’s here.” 

Talan is sitting up and wearing his glasses. He’s pale and the oxygen tube is still in place. The bruising on his face is even more impressive than it had been the day before. He’s awake though and smiles at them when they walk in. He looks better than Michael had expected. 

“Hey.” Talan let’s go of Ryan’s hand and reaches out to Michael. He perks up when he sees Oliver. “Hi!” 

“See I told you he’s good.” Ryan tells Talan, “You’re both okay.” 

“I’m okay.” Oliver agrees, “You look good.” 

Talan half laughs and he reaches to hold onto his ribs with his good hand. He frowns before leaning back against his pillows. 

“Watch it yeah?” Ryan warns Talan, “D’you need more pain meds?” 

“No.” Talan shakes his head, “I don’t wanna sleep.” 

“How much does it hurt?” Ryan asks, “For real.” 

“Two.” Talan answers, “I’m thirsty.” 

“I got you ice.” Oliver offers, “And Jello.” 

“Jello’s weird.” Talan scrunches up his nose, “Dad said a milkshake.”

“No outside food Babe.” Michael says regretfully, “But we got you Jello.”

Talan huffs frustrated and frowns at Michael. He looks at the Jello cups uninterested before he closes his eyes and turns his face away from everyone. 

Michael walks closer to the bed but Oliver stays close to the door. He looks scared and Michael doesn’t blame him. 

“He’s tired Gator.” Ryan explains first, “Pain meds make him different.” 

Oliver nods slowly and takes a step closer to the bed. He settles himself between Michael and Ryan and rests his hand on Talan’s blankets. 

“You can touch him.” Michael encourages, “It’s not going to hurt.” 

“You gotta hold my hand.” Talan says, “Everyone holds my hand. It’s a thing.” 

“Here Gator.” Ryan steps back, offering Oliver his place by the head of Talan’s bed. 

“I’m okay.” Oliver says quietly refusing to move closer to Tal. 

“You’re scared?” Talan looks at Oliver hurt. 

“No he’s not.” Ryan answers for Oliver, “Gator it’s-” 

“Ry.” Michael warns, “Stop.” 

“Yeah. Stop.” Talan repeats. 

All three of them talking seems to be too much for Talan to take in. He reaches back for Ryan and pushes his glasses off his face. 

“I’m sorry Baby.” Oliver apologizes. He rests his hand over Talan’s leg and squeezes it. “You’re doing good.” 

“You look so much better Tal.” Michael walks forward to be closer to Talan. He pushes Talan’s hair back to kiss his forehead. Talan’s skin feels hot and dread pools in Michael’s stomach, “Want some ice? Your Dad said you have to eat.” 

“No.” Talan refuses the ice chips and the water he’d asked for earlier, “I said two but it’s like four.” 

There’s a pain level chart by the foot of Talan’s bed and Michael catches Oliver staring at it. 

“We’ll get your nurse.” Michael tells Talan, “Hang on.” 

Talan is quiet. He leans in to be closer to Ryan and closes his eyes. Before they can get him to eat anything his nurse comes in. She checks his vitals, adjusts his pain medication and answers Oliver’s questions. Talan is sleeping by the time she leaves and the ice chips are left to melt in the blue cup on the tray table. 

“If you want to go it’s okay.” Michael offers Oliver, “Aunt Hil can come get you.” 

“No.” Oliver refuses. “I’ll stay.” 

*

Talan is still sleeping when his doctor walks into his room. Michael is adamant that Oliver, who listens and overanalyzes everything, not be present for the meeting. Ryan and him step out into the hallway while Oliver, who insists that it’s okay, stays with Talan. 

With his dads out of the room, Oliver takes the chair by Talan’s bed and with no one watching reaches out to hold his hand. His own fingers are painful because he’s bitten his nails down to the skin. He thinks of how uncomfortable Talan had looked on television this morning and squeezes his hand. 

“Hey.” Talan says drowsily, his eyes barely opening, “Wanna hear ‘bout the dragon.”

“What?” Oliver asks. 

“Read.” Talan asks. He loosely grips Oliver’s hand.

“I don’t have a book.” Oliver apologizes, “Sorry.”

“Dragon ‘Ver.” Talan insists again, 

Oliver’s read The Hobbit countless times. He’d been reading it to Talan on and off for most of the past year. Mostly when he felt guilty about his schedule or when he’d tried to distract his younger brother from their parents’ fights. 

“Ok yeah.” Oliver agrees, he thinks for a second before starting his story from memory, “In a hole in the ground lived a hobbit.” Oliver starts, “Not a dirty, wet hole filled with worms and not a dry hole with anything to eat. It was a hobbit hole so it was comfortable.” 

Talan doesn’t try to talk again, his eyes stay fixed on Oliver for a bit before closing. 

“Stay awake.” Oliver asks because somehow everything is less scary when Talan is awake. “Please Baby.” 

Talan blinks and pulls at Oliver. He makes a grunting sound that sounds like a complaint. 

“I got you.” Oliver carefully puts one hand on the side of Talan’s face, “It had a green door with a shiny yellow doorknob in the middle. The door opened to a tunnel, it had no smoke but it had paneled walls, and floors with carpet and lots of pegs for hats and coats because the hobbit had a lot of friends.” Oliver’s forehead drops on the mattress and his voice breaks. 

“Dude no.” Talan says a bit more alert “S’ok.” 

Talan squeezes Oliver’s hand hard until Oliver looks up from the mattress. 

“Pills they give make me weird.” Talan explains, “Where’s Dad?” 

“With your doctor.” Oliver answers, “I’m with you.”

“Move my bed up?” Talan asks, “Like slow.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver finds the control panel and hits the right button. He watches Tal slowly move to a sitting position and stops it when Tal’s upright. 

“And water.” Talan asks again, “You hold it.”

There’s a plastic cup with a straw beside the Jello containers and the blue cup that had been filled with ice chips. Oliver takes it and holds it up to Talan’s mouth. Talan drinks most of it before pushing it away. 

“D’you want some Jello?” Oliver asks, “The orange’s pretty good.” 

“Yeah.” Talan agrees, “You do it.” 

“You want me to feed you?” Oliver takes a container of orange Jello from the table and peels off the lid, “No.”

“I'm hungry.” Talan whines. “I’m hurt ‘Ver please.”

“No try.” Oliver urges, handing Talan the spoon and the clear plastic cup, “Use your right hand.” 

Talan looks skeptical but he clumsily tries to hold the spoon in his right hand. He lets out a frustrated groan when he tries to scoop some Jello out but only pushes the cup further away from him. 

“I'm gonna starve.” Talan says dramatically as the jello cup flips sideways on his bed. 

“You're not gonna starve just stop fooling around so much.” Oliver says. “Like just hold the spoon like you do in your right hand.”

“You do it.” Talan hands him the spoon.

“Fine.” Oliver agrees. He sits up beside Talan and grabs the spoon and the jello cup. 

Oliver scoops up some Jello and brings the spoon to Talan's mouth. Talan jerks his head out of the way at the last second. 

“You're a jerk.” Oliver puts the jello cup and the spoon back down on Talan's bed, “I'm done try'na” 

“No I'm sorry. I won't. I'm sorry.” Talan laughs. 

“No.” Oliver refuses.

“I almost died.” Tal points out, “Feed me.” 

“Dude.” Oliver says seriously, “That’s not funny. I thought you were dead.” 

“Yeah so.” Talan counteracts, “I thought you were dead too.”

“No I just had stitches.” Oliver shows Talan his arm, “I’m okay.” 

“Yeah.” Talan agrees, “I’m okay too.” 

Talan looks far from okay but Oliver decides not to mention it. He takes the spoon back and tries to feed Talan another bite of Jello. This time Talan doesn’t move his face away. He chews thoughtfully and holds up his hand when Oliver tries to feed him some more. 

“No.” Talan refuses to eat more of it, “That’s really gross.” 

*

The meeting about Talan turns into fight before Michael can understand what’s going on. He’s equally as guilty as Ryan but Ryan looses it right away. 

They’re yelling at each other in the hallway just outside the ICU and Michael is sure everyone beyond the door can hear them. He worries about Oliver who’s still alone with Talan. 

Michael stops yelling when Ryan balls up one of his fists and grabs onto his shirt collar with the other. A nurse walking out of the ICU sees them and hurries back inside. 

“Hey!” Michael pushes Ryan away. He forces Ryan’s hand off of him and grabs a handful of Ryan’s t-shirt. He pulls him into the hallway and away from the ICU. He lets go of him once they’re in an empty conference room. 

“Devon’s here.” Michael pulls out his phone, turns it on and starts texting, “You’re going to go back to the hotel with him.” 

“I ain’t leaving.” Ryan argues, “Tal needs-” 

“No.” Michael interrupts, “Tal doesn’t need you. Talan needs to sleep and relax not to worry about you and have you yelling, you’re out Ry. Go get some sleep and shower and come back when you got your shit figured out.” 

He’s forcing himself to be nicer than he wants to be. A part of him wishes he’d let Ryan hit him because then he’d have an excuse to send Ryan away for good. 

“You’re kicking me out?” Ryan laughs. “You can’t-”

“Yeah. I can.” Michael doesn’t joke back, “I’m going to go back to the ICU and apologize to the nurse and tell her you’re tired as shit and that’s why you almost punched me in the face before they call security and don’t let you back in.” 

“Fu-” 

“I got two kids to take care of.” Michael snaps, “I ain’t taking care of you too. You’re an adult pull some fucking weight. Go sleep. Come back when you can deal.” 

“I’m not leaving.” Ryan argues, “Talan-” 

“You can’t go in.” Michael decides, “You go back in and I tell them to-” 

“To what?” Ryan challenges. 

“To call security.” Michael doesn’t bullshit, “They can escort you out. You’re going to let Devon take you back to the hotel. You’re going to fucking sleep and when you decide to be an adult and act like a parent you can come back.”

“No.” Ryan refuses.

“It’s not a choice.” Michael bites, “Devon’s on his way.”

“You can’t-” 

“You were about to punch me in the face!” Michael yells, “Because I said they could put a chest tube back in if Tal needed it.” 

“THAT HURTS HIM.” Ryan yells, “You don’t even know. You weren’t there.” 

“If you listened.” Michael starts, “Fuck. It’s like- Go sleep Ryan. This isn’t you. I want to think you didn’t fucking lose it. You have two kids you can’t-” 

“Leave.” Ryan finishes, “You leave.” 

“No.” Michael refuses, “You don’t go with Devon I call the cops or security and you don’t get to come back.” 

It’s a harsh ultimatum but Michael’s had enough. 

Ryan deflates. It’s clear that he can’t figure a way out of Michael’s plan. His anger drains and he looks even more exhausted than before. 

“Who’s gonna stay with Tal?” Ryan asks and it’s clear he’s close to tears, “Who’s-” 

“Me.” Michael states, “Oliver, my sister, my mom-” 

“No.” Ryan cuts him off, “For me, who’s gonna-” 

“Me.” Michael says frustrated. 

“No.” Ryan refuses, “I want someone who’s not on your-” 

Michael gets what Ryan’s trying to say and he’s immediately enraged. 

“You’ve fucking lost it.” Michael yells, “What? Like you’re gonna leave and I’m gonna sneak him off to Baltimore?” 

“You want to take him away.” Ryan yells back, “You don’t even care about him but you don’t want me to-” 

“Jesus.” Michael takes a step away from Ryan and balls his fist, “He’s my kid.” 

“He ain’t.” Ryan yells, “You can’t take him.” 

Ryan advances towards Michael with both his fists ready to punch. He’s a foot away from him when Devon walks into the room. 

“Ry!” Devon hurries and grabs the sleeve of Ryan’s shirt. He gets between his brother and Michael without thinking about his own safety. “Don’t Ry.” 

Devon pushes Ryan back until he’s a safe distance away from Michael. Michael forces himself to breathe and calm down. 

“Fuck guys.” Devon swears, “What’s going on?” 

He’s scolding both of them and Michael knows their relationship problems are no longer hidden away. Ryan’s family doesn’t keep secrets. 

“I gotta get back to the kids.” Michael says before he pushes past Devon and Ryan without looking at either of them, “Get him out of here.” 

Once he’s out of the conference room, Michael forces himself to walk around the floor a few times. When his hands are no longer shaking and he’s gotten his thoughts back together he buzzes to be let back into the ICU. 

He pauses outside Talan’s room to watch his boys. There’s a half empty Jello cup on the tray table and Oliver’s feet are propped up on Talan’s bed. Oliver is talking and Talan is nodding along, half asleep. 

“His temperature is the same.” Talan’s nurse stops in the doorway beside Michael, “But he’s happier with his brother here.” 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees, “They were worried about each other.”

Michael is so worried about Talan that he can’t think straight. He forces himself to not think about Ryan and to focus all his energy on the boys. He feels safer now that both of them are with him. He knows though that Talan won’t be happy once he learns Ryan isn’t coming back. 

“Hey.” Michael says walking in, “You ate something!” 

He praises Tal to soften the blow about Ryan but Talan is already looking behind him. 

“Where’s Dad?” Talan asks, “He has my lip balm.” 

“He went to sleep.” Michael explains, “He’ll come back tomorrow.” 

“No.” Talan answers sounding confused, “He wasn’t leaving me.” 

“He had to go sleep.” Michael repeats, “Everyone else is here.” 

“I want Dad though.” Talan narrows his eyes, “He makes sure they don’t hurt me.” 

“I’ll do that.” Michael promises, “Don’t worry.” 

“Baby he just had to sleep.” Oliver adds, “Dad hasn’t slept since you got here. It’s okay.” 

Talan seems to believe Oliver more than he believes Michael. He licks his lips and presses them together. His blankets are bunched up around his sides and Michael reaches to smooth them out. Trying to replicate what he’s seen Ryan do a hundred times. 

“Can I call him?” Talan asks, “I wanna talk to him.” 

“Not right now Baby okay?” Michael soothes, “Let him sleep.” 

“He won’t care. It’s me.” Talan insists, “Gimme a phone.” 

“No.” Michael refuses even though Talan is getting more agitated. “It’s okay Tal.” 

Talan doesn’t look happy but he looks exhausted. He stops asking questions and reaches back to hold Oliver’s hand. 

“We got you Talan.” Michael comforts him. “Don’t worry.” 

Talan falls asleep without acknowledging what Michael says. Oliver lets go of his hand and offers up his spot to Michael. 

“It’s okay.” Michael says, “You can stay.” 

“No.” Oliver moves away, “He needs like you.” 

Michael takes Oliver’s spot and starts smoothing back Talan’s hair. He tries not to focus on how warm Talan is. He pulls down Talan’s blankets without making a big deal about it. Talan feels warmer and it’s worrisome. 

“Did the doctor say why he had a fever?” Oliver asks, “Because he’s not suppose to. It’s bad. Like if it’s in his blood he can-” 

“He has a lot of doctors Oliver.” Michael reminds him, “And nurses. He has a nurse just for him. Nothing bad is going to happen to Talan here.” 

Michael tries to sound more confident than he feels. Talan’s temperature and his oxygen levels are worrisome. The doctor had ordered more test but it’s nothing Oliver needs to worry about. 

“Go see grandma.” Michael urges, “She’s downstairs.” 

“No.” Oliver says. “I’m okay here.” 

“Do you want to go grab food?” Michael offers, “Or coffee? I’ll go with you. Talan’s just sleeping he’s okay to be alone for a bit.”

“No Dad.” Oliver brushes off, “I’m not hungry.” 

Truthfully, Michael doesn’t want to leave Talan. 

Talan sleeps and Oliver stops talking. It’s quiet in the room and the silence is only interrupted by the nurse’s cheery chitchat when she comes in to check on Talan. Oliver plays with the hem of his shirt and chews his nails. It’s late afternoon but it already feels like they’ve been awake for days. 

“Is dad really just at the hotel?” Oliver asks after the nurse leaves the room. “’Cause Tal was right, he wouldn’t leave him.” 

Michael closes his eyes instead of answering; he doesn’t have the energy to lie to Oliver. 

“Don’t tell Tal.” Oliver urges, guessing that things aren’t good, “He hates when you fight.” 

Usually Michael would deny the fight. Insist that Ryan and him are okay; that what they fought about was dumb. This time even though he knows it’s important to not let the cracks show he can’t come up with a story to hide it. He’s too busy worrying about Talan’s temperature and the possibility of infection and septic shock.

“He’s not going to know.” Michael assures Oliver, “Don’t worry.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for still reading. I never thought I would get this far in the story and that so many people would be interested. 
> 
> I love hearing from you. 
> 
> This fandom is in a really weird place right now and it's kind of hard to still feel it. This story was plotted and planned for long before any of the past few months happened. Nothing has changed because of recent events. The story follows the exact same large plot points that it did when it was first thought of in emails to my best friend back in 2013. 
> 
> I hope you haven't given up on me or this. I hate how busy I have been. 
> 
> Thank you so much for everything.

Ryan walks out of the hospital in a daze. He blinks back tears and swallows around the knot in his throat. Michael had refused to let him see Talan before leaving even after Ryan had told Talan that he’d be right back. Leaving Talan is almost unbearable. 

“I don’t even know what car to take.” Devon admits aloud mostly to himself, “Mom drove mine here I don’t know where she parked it.” 

Ryan says nothing. He trails behind Devon staring down at his shoes not bothering to even pretend he’s okay. 

Ryan tries to make a game plan. To think of what to say to the lawyer he’s planning on calling. He tries to think of things he can accuse Michael of if Michael does indeed call the cops. He thinks of turning around and running back to the ICU. 

“Dude no.” Devon warns like he’d heard Ryan’s thoughts, “You gotta sleep that’s why you’re not like-” 

Ryan clears his throat and Devon stops talking. 

Devon fruitlessly combs through the parking lot for fifteen minutes before he gives up finding the car and calls. 

“Sorry.” He apologizes to Ryan as they head towards a different parking lot, “We usually park here.” 

Once they find Devon’s truck, Ryan sits in the passenger seat and stares at his hand. He doesn’t close the door or buckle up his seat belt. 

Devon stands right outside the open driver’s door and stares at his brother. 

“Close the door Ry.” Devon suggests, “Then we can go.” 

Devon’s rarely seen Ryan get as angry as he had been minutes earlier. He’d never seen him threaten violence against Michael. He doesn’t know what’s going on but it seems that this is more than just stress over an injured kid. There’s no way that the fight had only been over Talan. 

“We have to go.” Devon tries to convince him, “He ain’t gonna let you back up.” 

“Who’s staying with Tal?” Ryan asks. 

“Mike is.” Devon reminds him, “Ols.” 

“No.” Ryan says frustrated, “Like for us who’s-”   
Outside of the hospital without Talan to take care of, machines to watch, nurses to talk to and the constant noise of the ICU Ryan has trouble keeping his eyes open. He hasn’t slept for more than a few hours since the night before Talan’s accident. Everything around him seems to move in slow motion and he’s too tired to keep thinking up of ways to get back to the ICU. 

“Kristin.” Devon answers quickly, “She’s there. She’s got him.” 

“Tal trusts her.” Ryan adds. 

“And she loves him.” Devon finally decides to get into the car, “So he’s okay for the night.”

Devon waits for Ryan to close the door but his brother seems to be frozen in place. 

“Call her?” Ryan asks, “Tell her to go up.” 

“We have to go Ry.” Devon insists trying to keep the exasperation out of his voice. “Tal’s okay with Mike. Close the door Ry.” 

Ryan doesn’t move. Devon leans across him to slam the door shut and buckle Ryan’s seat belt before starting the car.

“Okay so we’re going.” Devon says almost as a warning. 

Ryan doesn’t talk. He leans against the window and stares outside. He reaches forward to angle the air conditioning vent towards his face. 

“It won’t be so bad after you like sleep.” Devon tries, “Then it’s gonna make sense and Mike and you can sit down and talk it over.” 

Ryan doesn’t nod or answer and Devon goes quiet too. 

It’s midafternoon and the sun beats down on them for the entire short drive to the hotel. Devon parks the car and Ryan gets out without help. 

“I don’t know which room you wanna go to.” Devon talks as they make their way into the hotel. 

“I got a key.” Ryan says pulling out his wallet, “That one I guess.” 

“Mike uses that room too.” Devon cautions, “You can stay with me.”

“He ain’t here.” Ryan shrugs, “Whatever.” 

Devon follows Ryan because he doesn’t know what else to do. Leaving him alone seems like a bad idea. 

He sits on the bed and calls home while Ryan calls the hospital for an update. He orders food while Ryan showers and turns on the first game he finds to make everything feel a little more normal than it really is. 

It’s easier to pretend they’re watching the game than it is to try and find things to talk about. 

Ryan eats his food mechanically without really tasting anything. He plays the latest ICU update over and over in his head until he has it memorized. He has Talan’s lip balm in his pocket and he hadn’t gone back to say goodbye. He knows Talan will feel abandoned. 

He thinks of calling Michael to apologize and beg to be allowed back to see Talan. He tries to come up with a speech but he’s too tired to string coherent sentences together. Instead, he listens to Devon talk to Brady and a wave of jealousy washes over him. Devon’s two kids are okay and safe at home while his own family is in shambles. 

“Tal’s doing better.” Devon says reassuringly on the phone, “He’s awake Brady. When he’s in a regular room I’ll bring you. Yeah he knows you say hi. He says hi too.” 

When Devon hangs up, Ryan looks at him accusingly. 

“My dude’s freaking out.” Devon explains, “I don’t want him to think it’s bad.” 

Instead of answering, Ryan focuses on the bags in the room. He goes through the duffel of Talan’s things they’d brought and pulls out a change of clothes and Talan’s stuffed turtle. He places the pile of items on the chair by the door before going back to silently watch the television. 

“I’m gonna crash.” Ryan tells Devon before the game is finished, “You don’t gotta stay.” 

Ryan gets up and starts to pull the curtains closed. He flips the blankets down and gets in. He doesn’t want to go to sleep as much as he wants to be alone. For one of the first times in his life Devon’s presence brings no comfort. 

“Dude.” Devon says nervously still sitting on the other side of the bed close to Ryan, “You can’t go back. Mike’s not gonna let you.” 

“I’m gonna sleep.” Ryan promises a little annoyed.

“Ry-”

“I swear.” Ryan promises. “I’m tired, I ain’t got keys to nothing. I’m gonna crash. I’ll call Mike later and apologize and shit. Get Ols here and go ba-” Ryan yawns instead of finishing, “Go home. See your dudes.”

“I can stay Ry.” Devon offers. 

“I-” Ryan doesn’t know how to tell Devon to leave, “I’m gonna sleep.” 

Nothing he says seems to convince Devon so Ryan gives up. He takes off his t-shirt, falls back against the pillows, pulls the blankets up over his head and closes his eyes. 

Ryan doesn’t think Devon will leave but after a few minutes he does. Ryan sits back up alone in the room and gets up to turn on the tv because the silence is unsettling. 

He falls asleep on top of the blankets. 

It’s dark out when Ryan wakes up a few hours later. He’s lying on his side of the bed but his arms are reaching out towards where Michael usually sleeps. His head is resting off his pillow like he had tried to settle it somewhere close to Michael’s chest. 

He calls the ICU and gets the same update as before. Nothing has improved. 

He calls Michael, gets his answering machine and can’t think of anything to say by the time the tone chimes. He hangs up and reaches for the mini bar. 

*

Once Ryan leaves, Talan gets worse. He refuses to eat or drink water. He’s restless and grumpy. His fever slowly rises and his mood plummets. He’s nauseous and drowsy. He seems more comfortable while Oliver recites stories from memory but Oliver forgets the plot and runs out of ideas after an hour of talking non stop. 

Oliver refuses to leave and Michael stops trying to convince him. They both sit next to each other close to Talan and watch him drift off to sleep.

“I think he’s like sleeping.” Oliver tells Michael, “Is that okay?” 

“Yeah.” Michael reassures, “He needs sleep.”

“He’s gonna wake up right?” Oliver asks, “Like it’s just normal sleep?” 

“He’s on a lot of medication Ols.” Michael answers, “His body’s trying to fix a lot of things. He’s just sleeping.” 

“Okay yeah.” Oliver nods, “Here he probably wants you.” 

Oliver carefully lets go of Talan’s hand and moves to give his spot to Michael. Michael reaches for Talan’s hand but Talan pulls his hand away and under the blankets. 

Talan’s lips are dry and his face is flushed. His hair clings to his forehead with sweat. The chattiness from the day before is gone. Talan is sick and it’s hard to watch. 

Bothered by the change, Talan slowly opens his eyes and looks dazedly around the room. He looks from Michael to Oliver and keeps searching. When his eyes don’t fall on Ryan he cries out. 

“Tal?” Oliver slips between Michael and the bed. He finds Talan’s hand under the blanket and holds it. “Squeeze my hand if you're hurt.” 

Talan squeezes his fingers. 

“You have painkillers is one of the needles in your hand and the other one is antibiotics because they think you have an infection.” Oliver whispers to his brother, “So you're gonna feel better but you're gonna sleep. I'm gonna make sure you wake up though okay... So don't fight it you gotta sleep for your body to figure it out. You're sick Baby.” 

Talan squeezes Oliver’s fingers again. 

“He keeps saying he's hurt.” Oliver looks back at Michael helpless, “Make him not hurt.” 

“He can talk Oliver.” Michael snaps because he has no solution to make this better, “Tell him to talk.” 

“Tal.” Oliver tries again leaning in even closer to Talan. He sees the spot on the bed sheets where the Jello had dropped earlier, “You gotta say if you’re hurt.”

“Do you need anything Baby?” Michael asks, gently rubbing his hand over Talan’s shoulder. “Ice?” 

Talan shakes his head but the movement is weak. Michael buzzes for the nurse. 

“Hi guys.” Talan’s nightshift nurse walks into his room a few seconds later, “Hi Talan.” 

Oliver moves out of the nurse’s way. He walks around the bed to stand by the wall. He tries to take up as little room as possible. 

“No.” Talan says. He grabs Michael’s hand and pulls it close to his face, “Dad.” 

“It’s fine Talan.” Michael reassures, “You’re fine.” 

“It’s alright Talan.” The nurse explains to Talan, “I’m just going to check your temperature. Did you eat some ice?” 

Talan says nothing. 

“Do you remember my name hun?” She asks again. 

Talan takes Michael’s hand and pulls it over his eyes. 

“Alright.” The nurse says still cheerful, “Talan I’m Natalie, I was your nurse last night too. Nothing I’m going to do hurts. Can I take your temperature?”

Talan shakes his head no. 

“He’s scared.” Michael explains, “They took his chest tube out today.” 

“Okay.” The nurse says gently, “Talan, look at me?” 

Michael takes his hand off Talan’s face and rests it on Talan’s shoulder. Talan slowly opens his eyes to look at Nathalie. 

“Thanks hun.” She smiles, “Remember me? I don’t do anything that hurts.” 

Talan nods. 

“When’s your birthday hun?” She asks. 

“Stop.” Talan stares at her accusingly, “No.” 

“You’re doing good Talan.” She praises, “Do you know where you are?” 

“Yes.” Talan answers annoyed. 

“It’s good your family’s here.” She keeps smiling as she examines him, “You always have people with you. You’re a popular guy.” 

“Dad.” Talan complains. “Go home.”

“We’re taking care of you here.” The nurse soothes, “You’ll go home.” 

*

Talan gets worse as the day goes on. His fever climbs and Michael and Oliver are forced out of his room in order for Talan to go through tests. 

When they walk back into the ICU Talan is lethargic. He reaches out for someone and Oliver manages to grab his hand before Michael does. 

Oliver picks up the icepack resting on Talan’s chest and holds it up against the side of Talan’s head. Talan leans further against it. 

“You’re safe Tal.” Oliver tells him, “I’m here and I’m not leaving. My name’s Oliver.” 

The sentence brings Michael back to first aid training courses at Meadowbrooks. Allison had been his partner and they’d had to try hard not to laugh at each other the entire time. 

This time it’s not funny. Talan is back on oxygen. He frowns and whimpers. Most of his blankets have been pushed off but his skin is broken out into goose bumps. 

“You’re okay.” Oliver soothes again, he doesn’t make room for Michael to squeeze in behind him. “It’s going to stop soon Tal. You’re good.” 

“Want Dad.” Talan whines. 

The words hurt because Michael knows right away that Talan doesn’t mean him. He makes his way to the other side of the bed and rests his hand against Talan’s shoulder. He’s close to breaking down and calling Ryan and asking him to come back.

“Dad’s not here.” Michael apologizes. He rubs Talan’s arm to try and get the goose bumps to go away. “He had to go sleep.”

Talan cries out frustrated. He weakly tries to knock the ice pack Oliver’s holding away and pulls the oxygen tube out of his nose. 

“Relax Pal.” Michael urges reaching to put the oxygen tube back in place “It’s okay.”

“Go home.” Talan cries, “Take me home.” 

“Talan.” Michael tries, “You’re-” 

“No.” Talan almost growls. “Dad.” 

“I’m here.” Michael comforts, “It’s okay.”

“I’m here too.” Oliver adds. He puts the icepack back against Talan’s head. “It’s okay Talan. ” 

“Wanna go home.” Talan insists.

“No Babe.” Michael says calmly, “We’re all gonna stay here okay?”

“No.” Talan whines. 

Oliver looks at Michael worried and Michael feels helpless. He can’t make Talan feel better and he can’t make this easier for Oliver to deal with. 

“Yeah Tal.” Michael stays calm, “We’re staying here.” 

“No.” Talan tries to hit Michael’s hand away too.

“Tal.” Michael pulls one blanket back over Talan’s chest, “We’re staying here.” 

“No.” Talan yells and flails his arm. He pulls the oxygen tube out of his nose again and knocks Oliver’s hand away. 

Oliver looks scared. He backs away from the bed and stares at Talan horrified. Michael is quick to walk towards him but can’t manage to comfort both Oliver and Talan at the same time. Talan hits his hand away while Oliver clings to his shirt. 

Talan keeps yelling until two nurses rush in. 

“You need to leave.” The first nurse tells Michael. 

“No.” Oliver tries to argue, “Tal-” 

“Step out.” The nurse says gently but with authority, “He’s fine.” 

Michael has to force Oliver to leave. He grabs his son’s hand and pulls him out of the room and into the hallway. They stay right outside the room but the distraught look on Oliver’s face convinces Michael to leave the ICU entirely. 

Oliver can’t stay. He can’t keep watching Talan struggle. He can’t handle watching Talan get sicker. Michael doesn’t think he can handle it either but he gets that he can’t take care of them both. As much as it pains him he knows Oliver has to leave. 

Michael’s mind is made up. He takes his cell phone out of his pocket as soon as they’re out of the doors and dials Hilary’s number. 

“Hey.” He says when she answers, “Come get Ols.” 

“No.” Oliver tries to stop him. “I don’t-” 

“You can’t stay.” Michael says, speaking away from his phone. “Tal needs to sleep and feel better. You need to eat and sleep. You’re going to go back to the hotel.”

“With Dad?”

“No.” Michael answers quickly, “Aunt Hil’s going to come get you. Yeah we’re on the same floor. I’ll bring him down. He’s ready to go now.”

“I’m not.” Oliver argues. 

“It’s not your choice Ols. No with you, not with- He’s at the hotel too but Oliver’s with you.” 

Michael talks to both Hilary and Oliver at the same time and Oliver looks at him confused. Michael can’t bring himself to explain the situation to Hilary. 

“No he just needs to eat. He’s okay.” Michael lies to his sister, “We’ll be down when you get here.” 

Oliver resists the plan. He refuses to walk another step and turns to Michael looking angry. 

“They’re helping Talan.” Michael answers simply although Oliver hasn’t asked a question. “This is where he gets better.”

Michael fools himself into thinking that a toddler worthy answer will appease his Harvard student son. He no longer has the energy to shoulder Oliver’s welfare. 

Michael also doesn’t have the heart to explain to his family that Talan is sicker and that Ryan and him are fighting. He lets them take Oliver away without talking much excusing himself quickly to get back to the ICU. 

*

Talan keeps getting worse. He’s scared and confused and no amount of calming words or soothing touches seem to calm him down. 

Michael stays by his side. He holds ice packs to his face and tries to feed him water. He whispers to Talan nonstop and tries his hardest to make his youngest son feel better but nothing works. Talan stops asking for Ryan and cries. 

Michael allows himself to leave the ICU to call and check on Oliver once. When he returns, Talan’s room is crowded and a nurse stops him from going in. 

“Talan’s had a seizure.” The nurse explains, “It’s not uncommon he-” 

Michael can see the other parents across the ICU staring at him. A lot of them pretend that they’re not able to see and hear what’s happening. Michael realizes that he’s now the parent all the others are hoping not to be. 

“It’s going to stop.” The nurse reassures Michael, “He’s being taking care of.” 

The nurse gives him more explanations but Michael only half listens. Most of his attention is devoted to the room directly in front of him. There are too many people around to see Talan but Michael watches one of his feet jerk.

When he’s allowed back in Talan looks like he’s sleeping. His eyes are half open and have trouble focusing. 

“You had a seizure. You're okay.” Michael smoothes Talan's hair and kisses his forehead, “You're in the hospital.” 

Talan drags Michael's hand to cover his eyes and he presses his head further into his pillow. 

“Your brain's trying to calm down.” Michael keeps explaining, “Don't be scared Baby. I’m here and I’m gonna call Dad, you're okay. Dad’s gonna be here soon okay?” 

Michael kisses Talan's face again, “They’re giving you oxygen, that’s why there’s a mask on your face.” 

It takes a very slow half hour before a doctor walks in with Talan’s chart to talk. Michael tries to listen and understand what she says. He gives them permission to intubate Talan without waiting to ask Ryan because waiting seems scary.

He leaves to call Ryan but gets his voicemail. He leaves a message on his phone and another message with the front desk of the hotel. When he goes back to the ICU Talan is sedated and all the hope from the previous two days is gone. It feels like being back at square one. 

It’s almost a relief when Kristin walks into the room. 

“I’m supposed to stay.” She explains, “For Ryan. Devon called.”

“He had a seizure.” Michael tells, “They’re trying to get his fever down but it’s not. He wasn’t getting enough oxygen. They’re worried about his lungs and his kidneys and they don’t know anymore. He was okay-” 

Michael can’t finish. He wipes his eyes and looks away from Kristin. 

“Ry should be here.” Kristin says quietly, putting her hand over one of Talan’s legs. 

“I called him.” Michael explains, “To tell him but he’s not answering.” 

“Devon said he was sleeping.” Kristin answers, “So he doesn’t know?” 

Michael shakes his head and knows that it’s wrong. Gets that whatever fight they’ve had needs to be put aside because Ryan should be here for this. That if things keep getting worse Ryan has to be next to Talan. 

“I’ll call again.” Michael says, “I gotta leave to do it.”

“I got him.” Kristin reassures, “We’re okay.”

Michael feels like he’s walking around in a fog and he desperately wants to wake up. Wants to be startled awake by Ryan jumping on the bed or Oliver complaining about life. He wants to open his eyes and be in Costa Rica or New York or back home in Florida. Wishes they could all be anywhere else doing anything other than watching Talan slowly fading away. 

“Ryan.” Michael says again to his husband’s answering machine, “When you get this come to the hospital. Talan had a seizure. His fever’s high. You need to be here.” 

Michael keeps one of his hands on the door to the ICU, not ready to fully leave Talan behind. 

“They wanted to intubate him again… I said yes because he’s having… I don’t even know.” Michael admits, “he’s not doing good Ry. You have to come. I’ll call the hotel. We need you here. I’m sorry.” 

If things keep getting worse Michael needs to be next to Ryan. 

*

Ryan wakes up to the shrill ring of the hotel phone. He fumbles in the darkness to find the bedside table but his arm only hits the bed. He’s used to sleeping on the right side but now he’s sprawled across the middle. By the time he reaches the phone it has stopped ringing. 

He’s definitely still drunk and he lets the numbness lull him back to sleep without thinking of the reality waiting for him or who could have been trying to call. He pulls his blankets back up and settles himself down against his pillow. He’s halfway back to sleep when the phone rings again. 

“Motherfuck.” Ryan swears. 

He struggles to sit up and this time he’s able to grab the phone on the third ring. He tries hard to pronounce his words without slurring. 

“H’Lo.” He manages to utter. He clears his throat and tries again, “Hi?” 

“Mr Lochte.” The voice is unfamiliar but sounds apologetic. “We have an urgent message for you, we’re sorry to call in the middle of-”

“What’s it?” Ryan can’t manage a full sentence. His heart’s jumped in his throat and he feels like he might throw up. 

“Your husband wants you to call. He said to call the floor and not his phone. He said it was urgent.” 

“Ok.” Ryan manages to say even though he feels like crying, “Thanks.” 

He drops the phone instead of hanging up and picks up his cell phone. His hands shake. He calls Michael instead of calling the floor because as angry as he is with his husband he wants news from him and not a nurse. 

Michael’s phone rings and goes to voicemail. Ryan waits a few seconds before dialing again. While he waits for Michael to answer to gets out of bed, stumbles to the bathroom and splashes cold water on his face. He forces down a glass of water and wills himself to feel more sober. 

The phone rings and goes to voicemail again and Ryan calls a third time. He grabs pants and a shirt from the bag still on the bathroom floor. He’s pulling on his shirt when Michael answers. 

“Ry.” Michael starts. 

“S’he?” Ryan can’t stop himself from asking. 

The room spins. Ryan slides down the wall and leans his head against his knees. The five seconds he has to wait before Michael answers feel like an eternity. 

“No.” Michael reassures, “But it’s not good, they have him on antibiotics but it’s not… His fever keeps going up and his lungs weren’t… aren’t… They’re worried he’s not gonna- You have to come. It’s not good I tried to call but you-” 

“Sleeping.” Ryan fills in. 

“Come back.” Michael tells him, “They said we should be here I don’t know-” 

It’s Ryan’s nightmare. He’s had this dream about both boys over the years. Seen their caskets in dark rooms and drowned in never ending pain. The nightmares would happen and Carter or Michael would wake him up and he’d be able to go check on both boys to make sure they were okay. 

This time it’s real and Ryan’s chest feels like it might cave in and the nausea he fights down isn’t related to alcohol. He remembers the middle of the night call from Devon telling him he had to get to the hospital to be with his dad. Remembers how he hadn’t wanted to leave their bedroom in Baltimore to go face the pain. 

This time it hurts more.

“Ry.” Michael almost begs. 

“I’m on my way.” Ryan chokes out, “Right now.” 

Ryan hangs up without waiting for Michael to say anything else. He sits on the floor frozen. The numbness that had been so comforting minutes earlier is now an annoyance. 

He pulls himself up and takes a few stumbling steps to the door to find his shoes. He slips them on and takes a few more seconds to gather himself. 

He thinks of the distance between the hotel and the hospital. Thinks of Talan fighting for his life and knows he can’t ever forgive himself for not being there.   
He chews gum on his way to the lobby and quickly realizes he’s too drunk to drive. He focuses all his energy on sounding sober enough to not raise the suspicion of the front desk when he orders a cab. 

There’s coffee in the lobby and he drinks down a cup while he waits for his cab. 

He hates himself for drinking.

* 

Ryan has no cash. He hands over his credit card when the cab driver pulls up to the hospital and sets his jaw when the man starts to complain about his pay method of choice. 

“I don’t give a fuck man.” Ryan interrupts, “My kid’s sick.” 

Every move the cab driver makes feels like it’s in slow motion. The machine stalls and Ryan groans. He half thinks of abandoning the cab and his credit card to make a run for it. 

But he gets his card back and hightails if out of the car. He’s not too steady on his feet and can’t walk as fast as he would want. He chugs the rest of his third cup of coffee and throws the paper cup in the trashcan by the elevator. 

Kristin waits for him outside the ICU. She crosses her arms and looks him over disapproving. 

“I made sure he called you.” She tells him, “And you’re drunk.” 

“I had a drink.” Ryan lies: “To get to sleep it’s not-” 

“For fuck’s sake Ryan.” She says disgusted, her voice close to tears “He was crying for you.”

“Don’t tell Mike.” Ryan begs, “He won’t lemme in.” 

Kristin stares at him for a few more seconds and does a good job of looking exactly like their mom. Ryan stares at his shoes. 

“I’ll send him out.” Kristin finally says, “Stay here.” 

Ryan is ashamed. He’d promised Talan to stop drinking, he’d told Michael he had it under control. He’s known for half a year that if the truth came out his life would be over. That Michael would leave with both the kids and not look back. Ryan gets that the lies he’s told to save face are worse than the actual drinking. 

He chokes on tears and wishes he had more coffee or gum or anything to sober himself up. 

Ryan looks up when the doors slide open and watches Michael walk towards him. 

Michael’s been crying and Ryan can’t help but reach out to him. He fists the sleeve of Michael’s t-shirt and pulls him close. Michael hugs him back and they cling to each other for a few seconds. 

“You didn’t check your messages?” Michael asks when he pulls away. 

“No.” Ryan answers, “I was sleeping. I called you. I came here.” 

“D’you drive?” Michael asks worried because Ryan doesn’t look entirely pulled together, “How d’you get here so fast?” 

“Took a cab.” Ryan mutters, “Didn’t have to park.”

“Sorry yeah.” Michael remembers, “Dev drove you to the hotel.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees remembering how he’d left the hospital. “Dev drove me.” 

“We have to meet with the doctor again.” Michael explains, not lingering on Ryan’s explanation. “But I don’t want to-” 

“Talan.” Ryan is short, “I want to see Tal.” 

“He’s not awake.” Michael warns. “They keep telling me but I didn’t write it down. They said-” He stops

“What?” Ryan pries, “What they say?” 

“If whatever they have him on starts working we’ll be good but if it doesn’t-”

“No.” Ryan stops, anger flaring up again. “No that ain’t happening.”

“Ryan we have to.” 

“No.” Ryan repeats. “You’re not going to-” 

“We have to think about the-” Michael tries to reason.

“You’re talkin’ about him dying?” Ryan says outraged. 

The compassion he’d felt for Michael moments earlier is gone. Ryan bites down on his lip to stop himself from lashing out. He tries to push past Michael to get to the sliding ICU doors but Michael blocks his way. 

“No.” Michael chokes out, holding Ryan’s arm. “But he’s sick and he’s hurt Ry He was scared after his seizure it was bad. He’s hurt Ry. This hurts him.” 

“No.” Ryan refuses, raising his voice, “He ain’t giving up and we’re not. He knows.”

“They want us to decide if his heart stops if we want ‘em to keep him-” Michael tries to explain the hardest talk he’d had to have since Ryan had left. 

“Yes!” Ryan cries out outraged, “He’s not dying.” 

“You think I want him to die?” Michael gasps. 

“You want ‘em to stop.” Ryan accuses, “So yeah.” 

“I don’t want him to die. I just don’t want him to hurt.” Michael’s voice breaks.

"He's not giving up.” Ryan states, “We ain’t letting him."   
"He's sick Ry, it's not the flu."  
“He’s not giving up.” Ryan says again, “We’re not giving up.” 

They stare at each other in silence. 

Ryan is seething. He chews his lip and takes a step back from Michael forcing his husband to let go of his shirt.

“If it was Ols.” Ryan says pointedly, waving his hand towards the closed ICU doors, “You’d-”

“Be what?” Michael challenges, “I’ve been here I haven’t left.” 

Ryan shakes his head and goes back to biting his lip. He tastes blood in his mouth. 

“I get arrested if I walk back in?” Ryan asks, “D’you call the cops?” 

“No.” Michael admits, “Go.” 

Ryan walks in the ICU with Michael directly behind him. He can feel people staring at him as he makes his way to Talan’s room. A day before Ryan had almost felt guilty that his child had been awake and talking in a ward full of kids fighting for their lives. Now the situation’s been reversed and the weight of it follows him along the hallway. 

In Talan’s room, Kristin gives up her spot and Ryan settles back in the chair closest to Talan. Michael walks in a second later and is forced to settle at the foot of the bed. 

“Hey dude I’m back.” Ryan whispers to Talan, “Got you.” 

“It was to help him out.” Michael reminds him, “It takes stress off-” 

“D’he know?” Ryan asks, “D’you tell him?” 

“He was out of it.” Michael explains, “After the seizure he wasn’t really-” 

“So no one told him what was gonna happen?” Ryan looks up. 

“Ry he wasn’t awake.” Kristin says gently, “He just went to sleep.” 

Ryan ignores his sister and he ignores Michael. He pulls Talan’s hospital gown higher on his chest and presses the back of his hand against Talan’s forehead. 

“Nothing bad’s gonna go down.” Ryan promises Talan. 

“Nothing bad went down.” Michael seethes, “I had to-” 

“Nothing good happened.” Ryan mutters.

“If you answered your phone.” Michael mutters back angrily.

“Stop.” Kristin tells both of them disgusted. “What’s the point?”

Ryan doesn’t answer her question. He avoids looking at Michael. 

“Who’s got Gator?” Ryan asks instead. 

“If you cared you’d-” 

“Hey.” Kristin warns. 

“He’s with Hilary.” Michael answers after a few seconds of silence. 

“In Florida?” Ryan asks.

“For fuck’s-” Michael starts.

“He probably hears what’s going on.” Kristin interrupts Michael, “Stop.” 

More silence follows her interruption. Ryan stares at his sister before turning to stare at Michael expecting an answer. 

“Yes in Florida.” Michael answers, “I wouldn’t.” 

Ryan doesn’t say anything. He keeps brushing Talan’s hair and running his hand across the dry, hot skin of Talan’s forehead. He tries not to hate Michael for kicking him out. He tries not to think of Talan crying for him. He tries to forget that he’d chosen to get drunk. 

“When are we meeting with the doctor?” Ryan asks forcing himself to keep his voice neutral. 

“I don’t know.” Michael admits, “I was trying to pay attention to him.”

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “That’s what’s important.” 

* 

In the car, Oliver rests his head against Hilary’s shoulder and falls asleep. 

It’s dark outside when he wakes up and Hilary is still driving. 

“Where are we?” Oliver asks startled. 

He yawns and cranes his neck to try and catch the writing on a road sign. He narrows his eyes but can’t make out the cities it lists.

“We’re halfway home.” Hilary says softly.

“Home where?” Oliver asks panicked, “Dad said the hotel.” 

“No.” Hilary gently corrects, “He thought it be better if you were home.” 

“Where?” Oliver asks again. 

“Your house Oliver.” Hilary says her voice still calm, “Daytona.” 

Oliver relaxes. He hasn’t been home in a month. As much as it feels important to be close to Talan the thought of being in his own bed is inviting. 

“We can go pick up your dog.” Hilary suggests, “I’ll make breakfast.” 

She’s offering more normal than Oliver’s had in months and it’s hard to resist. He stops thinking of reason to turn the car around. He stops thinking that he should be with Talan. He’s exhausted and hungry. The car feels safer than the hospital and home will be better than the hotel. 

Instead of fighting the plan Oliver rests his feet on the dash and reaches for a pack of almonds Hilary has in the center console. 

“I have more snacks.” She says pointing towards the backseat, “Grab the bag.”   
Oliver takes hold of the fabric tote bag’s handles and pulls it on his lap. He pulls out a bottle of juice, dried nori and a pack of trail mix. 

“It’s apple with blueberry.” Hilary points to the juice bottle, “I found it near the hotel.” 

Oliver twists off the cap of the juice, breaks the safety seal and takes a drink. Hilary smiles at him and he manages to smile back. 

“It’s better.” Hilary says, “Yeah monkey?” 

“Yeah.” Oliver agrees before sliding down in his seat and dropping his head back on his aunt’s shoulder. 

“We have an hour you can sleep.” She suggests, “We’ll call your dad once you’re home.” 

Oliver finishes his juice and falls asleep. He drifts on and off for the rest of the drive to Daytona. He’s not jolted awake by nightmares. He wakes up when Hilary stops for gas and then finally when they pull up to the house. 

“Let’s go in.” Hilary says almost cautiously. 

Oliver still has his keys hooked onto his backpack. He walks ahead of Hilary, unlocks the door and punches in the security alarm code automatically. It’s not until his shoes are off and he’s dropped his backpack that being home hits him. 

Home looks the same. 

However, the house is too empty and too quiet. It’s eerie to not be greeted by dogs or Ryan’s voice from the kitchen. It’s weird to not hear ESPN blaring from the living room and Talan bouncing a basketball in the backyard. 

Oliver doesn’t wait for Hilary. He walks from the entryway to the kitchen and sits on one of the kitchen stools. 

Despite the quiet the house overflows with familiarity. There’s a pair of Talan’s glasses on the counter, a stray pair of goggles held up by a magnet on the fridge and all the dogs’ food bowls on the floor. He can hear the ocean and even though it’s night he can still see the Christmas lights strung across their back yard from the Fourth of July party. 

“Hey.” Hilary calls out after him, “Are you in the kitchen?” 

She walks to him before he can answer. 

“Want to talk to your dad?” Hilary suggests, picking the house phone up from the counter. “I’m about to call.” 

“No.” Oliver answers before reaching for a paper pad filled with Ryan’s handwriting and doodles. It’s a list of item for Talan. Half of the words are scratched off and a few more have been added in Talan’s all capital letter printing. 

Oliver doesn’t want to talk to Michael or to Ryan or to anyone about anything. He wants to go to bed and sleep. He’s too scared to ask about Talan. 

“I think he’d want to talk to you.” Hilary tries to change his mind, “Just stay here while I call.” 

“No.” Oliver insists, jumping down from his stool. “I’m gonna go to bed.” 

Oliver wishes the dogs were home. 

His room is clean. The things he’d unpacked last minute before leaving for training camp are still in a pile at the foot of his bed. He takes off his shoes and puts them against the wall before opening a drawer and taking out pajamas. 

He brings his clothes into his bathroom, turns on the shower and goes back into his bedroom to grab his phone. He hesitates before sending a message to Evan but he decides to do it. Tells him he’s home before he steps into the shower and lets the hot water wash over him.

He stays in the shower until the water stops being hot. He towels off before checking his phone but Evan hasn’t answered. He ignores the missed calls from his grandfather and from Michael. 

Oliver makes sure his door is closed. He turns off his bedroom lights and gets in bed. He hears Hilary moving around downstairs. Listens to her footsteps walking up the stairs, along the hallway and stop right outside his bedroom door. She doesn’t try to open the door or talk and Oliver makes no noise. A few seconds later she walks away and after a few seconds Oliver hears the television being turned on downstairs. 

Oliver closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep. It’s awhile before he feels the water engulfing him. There isn’t enough air in his lungs and despite trying his hardest he can’t kick up to the surface. Talan’s body is heavy and limp in his arms. There’s blood in the water and on his skin. 

He wakes up in a panic. 

He’s not alone. His head is resting against someone’s shoulder and that person’s arms are wrapped protectively around him. 

“Dude.” Evan mutters sleepily, “You kicked me.” 

Evan is shirtless. He shifts and pulls Oliver closer to him, moving Oliver’s head from his shoulder to his chest. Their legs are intertwined and one of Evan’s feet slowly runs up and down Oliver’s leg. 

“Y’hurt your arm.” Evan points out, his fingers brushing against the gauze. “S’ok.” 

Oliver nods against Evan before kissing his chest. He snakes his arm across Evan’s stomach and brushes his fingers against Evan’s side. 

“Sleep.” Evan says before Oliver can say anything else. “I came so y’could sleep.” Evan yawns. 

Instead of closing his eyes, Oliver pulls himself up on his elbow and leans over to kiss Evan. 

Evan kisses him back. Moving one hand to grab onto the back of Oliver’s neck and wrapping his legs tighter around him. 

“I can’t.” Oliver whispers after he’s pulled away to breathe. 

Oliver doesn’t go into the details. Instead he kisses Evan again and pulls his shirt off to feel Evan’s skin against his own. 

Evan doesn’t ask any questions. 

*

Michael wishes the doctor would stop talking. 

He’s been up for more than twenty-four hours and things are starting to blur. He tries to keep the information straight. Pretends he’s listening to the worst-case scenarios for Talan. Forces himself to not block out the details of how his son might die.

Beside him, Ryan seems to be doing the same. Ryan’s eyes are bloodshot and he’s chewed his lip bloody. Ryan cries openly and Michael can’t bring himself to reach out and comfort him. 

Ryan has a piece of paper and a hotel pen. He writes as the doctor talks but Michael can’t make out his handwriting. The piece of paper is tear stained and the ink runs in more than one place. When Michael stops focusing on Ryan’s notes he realizes that he has no idea what the doctor has just finished saying. 

Michael doesn’t want to think about Talan dying. Doesn’t want to hear about his heart stopping, of more burns on his chest or possible brain damage. He can’t bear to think that maybe somewhere Talan is feeling the pain from all of this. 

Michael can’t think of his life or their family life without Talan. He can already feel the hole Talan would leave; a bedroom filled with sketchbooks, dirty laundry and cereal bowls. An impeccable turtle tank, a dog who can roll over and high five on command and the collection of broken surfboards and half deflated basketballs that crowds their garage. Michael can’t imagine living without Talan’s constant questions and blabber. The thought of it makes him want to die too. Talan’s spent the last fifteen years making everything brighter. 

“If it’s worst in a few hours we’ll help out his kidneys like we're helping out his lungs, if-”

“Can he come back from that?” Ryan asks glancing down at his notes he rests his pen on the word kidney. 

“It's too soon to tell.” The doctor answers, “We’ll know more after-” 

“He can have one of mine.” Ryan says, “I want to like be-”

“Ry.” Michael says shortly.

They stare at each other. 

“I want to be tested.” Ryan finishes his voice taking on a desperate edge, “To see if I’m a match. Whatever you can take from me to give to him… I don’t care.” 

The doctor has stopped talking and the social worker looks anxious. 

“We can give you some time.” The social worker says, “We can talk later.”

Michael nods because he doesn’t know what else to do. He needs a break from listening even though it surely means fighting with Ryan. 

They’re left alone in the room.

Michael wants to be anywhere else. He wants to undo his decision to go to Costa Rica earlier. He wishes they had chosen to go back to Florida after Rotterdam like Talan had wanted. 

“It ain’t your choice.” Ryan says quietly, “If I want to give him-” 

“Ryan.” Michael interrupts him, “Stop.” 

“Yo if that’s what it takes to make sure he’s okay I don’t care.” Ryan says.

“They’re not gonna cut you open when they don’t know he’s gonna need it.” Michael snaps. 

As angry as he is with Ryan Michael can’t fathom the thought of doctors cutting parts out of him to make Talan better, like some sick patch up work. He can’t deal with worrying about another family member. 

“I don't fucking care.” Ryan manages to breathe out. He wipes tears away from his face with the back of his hand. The table in front of him is already littered with Kleenex. 

“Oliver needs you.” Michael implores, “I can’t have-” 

“I can’t have Tal die.” Ryan interrupts, his voice almost running out, “ So I don't care if he wakes up without one leg or messed up eyes or if we gotta reteach him to walk... He wakes up, we got him back.” 

Talan and Ryan’s bond has always been undeniable. Michael had known from the first time he’d brought Talan out to meet Ryan that this was it for his husband. Whatever closeness he hadn’t managed to form with Oliver because of training, Rio and the constant fighting wouldn’t happen with Talan. Ryan and Talan had been inseparable from the start. 

“You can’t fucking help.” Ryan snaps angered by Michael’s silence. “So don’t say you get it.”

Ryan has given blood. Ryan has been able to offer part of himself to heal their kid and Michael hasn’t. Ryan’s accusation feels like a stab wound. Without even taking the time to calculate every slight, mean word and hurtful action of the past thirty years Michael realizes that this is the cruelest thing Ryan’s ever said. 

“I can’t.” He manages to say even though breathing feels excruciatingly painful. 

For the seventeen years they’ve had kids neither of them has ever made the other one feel inferior for not being the biological parent. They’ve never used their genetic link to a kid to one up the other. Both kids have always simply just been theirs. 

Until now. 

Michael has spent his life with Ryan pinpointing key moments of their relationship. He’d placed one when Ryan and him had first gotten together in Athens, when they’d decided to make it official just after Beijing, when they’d broken up before London and gotten back together right after it. When they’d gotten married, when Oliver had been born, when the idea of Talan had come to existence. All these moments have always been carefully marked in his mind like coloured pins on a traveller’s world map. 

This, he thinks, mentally picking up another pin, is the moment Ryan quit. 

*

Ryan is too angry to stay in the room with Michael. He storms out and the door slams behind him. He hurries back to Talan’s room and waits for Kristin to give him the chair back. 

“His fever hasn’t gotten worse.” She informs him not getting up. “The nurse said it was good.”

“You can go.” Ryan offers, “I got him.” 

“No.” Kristin refuses, “You’re drunk.” 

“Switch.” Ryan asks instead, “I gotta hold his hand.”

Kristin concedes. She gets up and relinquishes her spot to Ryan. She sits close to the foot of the bed in silence. 

“Where’s Michael?” She asks when the silence becomes unbearable. 

“Dunno.” Ryan shrugs, “Don’t care.” 

“You care Ryan.” Kristin reminds him, “Think of your kids.” 

“He kicked me out.” Ryan argues, “He made me leave.” 

“You got drunk.” Kristin whispers furiously, “It’s the most-” 

“Stop.” Ryan insists. “You can’t-” 

“Think of what you have to lose Ryan!” Kristin keeps whispering, “God, if he knows it’s-I had to fight for you today. To get him to call to get… How long have you two been-” 

“A year?” Ryan guesses, “S’been bad for a bit we were gonna work through but then this goes on so it’s over.” 

Kristin shakes her head and Ryan stops talking. 

“Do you have a lawyer?” She finally asks. 

Ryan nods. 

“Does Mike know you’re drinking?” 

Ryan shrugs. 

“He’ll take Tal.” Kristin whispers furiously, “How can you-” 

“I know.” Ryan barks to get her to stop, “Fuck.” 

“No.” Kristin snaps back, “He wanted you and you weren’t here. He didn’t care Mike was here. He didn’t care I was here. He wanted you. You don’t pull this shit Ryan.” 

“Stop.” Ryan asks, “He might hear.” 

Kristin quietly seethes while Ryan worries over Talan. 

Michael joins them and sits opposite from Ryan in total silence. They don’t look at each other or talk. Kristin eventually leaves and with no change in Talan’s condition Michael and Ryan fall asleep 

It’s late morning when Ryan wakes up, his neck sore from hanging back over the chair. He stretches and reaches back to massage his own shoulders. He yawns and stops when the nurse walks into the room. 

“His temperature's gone down to normal.” The nurse whispers because Michael is still sleeping, “You have a fighter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a nurse or a doctor so I claim zero medical accuracy. I deeply apologize if the inaccuracies take away from the fic but if I made sure everything was true life ready I would need a 24/7 medical consult on stand by. If it takes away from the story for you then I'm sorry... I hear Scrubs did a good job.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience. Thank you for still reading <3

Ryan spends the night, the morning and the next two days by Talan’s side. He keeps an eye on the flurry of nurses, doctors, orderlies and family members who walk in and out of Talan’s room. He watches over Talan and talks to him nonstop. 

He doesn’t talk to Michael.

For two days, the two of them exist in the tiny ICU room in silence. They sit next to each other during meetings but don’t make eye contact. They stop reaching out for each other. 

They each leave the ICU for a few hours at a time to go shower, eat, sleep and change. In their shared hotel room Ryan eyes Michael’s luggage and thinks of taking his own to a different room. He debated the idea of bringing his things over to Caleb and Bruce’s house but doesn’t want to face the twenty-minute drive. He thinks of drinking but knows he can’t. 

Michael looks up at him when he returns to Talan’s room. Michael puts down the book they’ve been reading to Talan and clears his throat. 

“Hey.” Ryan says and his voice feels rough from disuse. 

“They started taking him off sedation.” Michael answers, “The doctor just left you can still catch him. They said he’d wake up slow.” 

Ryan doesn’t have a lot left to say. His emotions are frayed. The good news is hard to process after a few days of preparing for the worse. 

“Good.” He manages to say out loud, “Thanks.” 

At the foot of the bed, Ryan wraps his hands around Talan’s toes and squeezes them before pulling the sheet back over his feet. He nervously pats down Talan’s blankets before he sits in the free chair, he doesn’t know what else to say to his husband. 

Ryan knows that the silence can’t go on. Talan will wake up, Oliver will leave for college and they’ll have to talk to each other again. 

“Is Oliver coming back?” Ryan forces himself to keep the conversation going.

“I don’t know.” Michael folds and unfolds the corner of a page, “Hil says he’s okay.”

Ryan takes Talan’s hand and lays his palm flat against his own. He lifts Talan’s fingers up one by one like the physiotherapist had done the day before intertwining their fingers and resting their hands down against the mattress. 

“I miss him.” Michael blurts out. 

Ryan thinks of all the mean things he could say. If Michael had missed Talan while Talan was okay he could have spent more time at home. He could have tried harder to make basketball games and day trips to the beach. If Michael missed Talan he could have sacrificed a bit more of Oliver’s schedule to make things fair. He could have tried to be more understanding; he could have tried to find ways of talking to Talan without things always escalating into a fight. 

Because he knows how lucky they are to be waiting for Talan to wake up Ryan stays quiet. He doesn’t have it in him to start another fight. He doesn’t want to risk Michael getting angry and bringing up his drinking. 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees instead. “Me too.” 

They spend the day waiting. They watch Talan pass every test he undergoes with flying colours. They watch him start to breathe on his own and move around. Once Talan’s free from the breathing tube he starts willingly answering their questions by moaning.

Ryan is sick of waiting, sick of silence and sick of sitting helpless watching Talan struggle. He’s restless from sitting for so long.

“I’m gonna go call my mom.” He tells Michael, “Tell her he’s okay.” 

“I’ll go after.” Michael answers, “Call Hilary.” 

“I’ll call Ols.” Ryan offers. 

“Sure.” Michael agrees.

“You can call him.” Ryan thinks instead, “That’s like your-” 

“No.” Michael shakes his head, “Go ahead.”

They’re walking on eggshells around each other. Talking like over polite strangers. The past few days have been exhausting. The pamphlets the social worker had given them on coping with critically ill children are still on the tray table along with the DNR paper work for Talan they had refused to sign. All the energy that could have gone to forgiving each other and mending their relationship has been focused on coping with Talan. 

“I’ll be back in five.” Ryan stands. He tries to take his hand out of Talan’s but Talan grips onto him. 

“Hey.” Ryan says to Tal, “Thought you were sleeping.” 

“No.” Talan whispers hoarsely. 

“I can stay Baby.” Ryan apologizes before sitting down. 

“Yeah.” Talan agrees. 

“Hey.” Michael says gently as he brushes Talan’s hair away from his face, “Open your eyes Babe.”

Talan obeys and Ryan hears Michael exhale in relief, like he’d been holding his breath afraid that Talan wouldn’t. 

Talan’s eyes lock on Michael first and he squints. Michael reaches over the bed and holds out his hand. Without words, Ryan knows he’s looking for Talan’s glasses. He takes them off the tray table and passes them to Michael. 

“Tal it’s over.” Michael carefully the placing the glasses on Talan’s face, “You’re good.”

“Wasover?” Talan mumbles. 

“You were really sick.” Ryan explains, standing up and leaning over so that Talan can see him better. “You were sleeping but it’s good now.” 

Talan blinks.

“You’re okay Pal.” Michael soothes, straightening the glasses on Talan’s face. “We love you.” 

“Mmhm.” Talan agrees before holding out his hand and giving them both a weak thumb up. 

“Go back to sleep yeah?” Ryan blinks back tears and swallows hard against the knot in his throat. 

Ryan blinks back tears and turns away from Talan to wipe his eyes. He tries to get over the never changing feel of the past days. He’s lost track of how long they’ve been in Miami, of how long it’s been since Talan’s accident. Every day in the ICU has started to melt into the next one. 

Talan finds Ryan’s hand again and squeezes it. 

“Thanks Baby.” Ryan tries to force his voice to sound normal. He smoothes down the tape against Talan’s skin and tries to warm up his fingertips. 

“We’re staying.” Michael reassures. “You can sleep.”

Talan shakes his head at the suggestion. He lets go of Ryan’s hand and reaches over to Michael. He points to the book Michael’s holding. 

“He wants you to read.” Ryan guesses, “You want dad to read?” 

Talan nods faintly. 

“I don’t know where I was.” Michael thumbs the pages of the book quickly looking for a page that seems more recently dog-eared than the rest. He finds a receipt for the hospital cafeteria halfway through and flattens out the spine in a way that would make Oliver cringe. 

“Anywhere Mike.” Ryan urges, “Just read.”

“I-” Michael starts to snap but catches himself, “I got it.” He continues more calmly. 

“Now certaintly… certainly.” Michael corrects himself, “Bilbo was in what is called a tight place-” 

“Yeah like you.” Ryan interjects, patting Talan’s shoulder. “This good Baby?” 

Talan nods without looking away from Michael. He waits for him to start reading again. 

“But you must remember it was not quite so tight for him-” Michael stops to read to wipe his eyes, “as it would have been for me or for you.”

Ryan’s attention is entirely focused on Talan. He squeezes his hand and waits for Talan to squeeze it back, relishing the signs that his kid is okay. He doesn’t listen to what Michael is reading. Instead he does what little things he can do to make Talan more comfortable. He puts lip balm on his lips, fixes his blankets and warms up his fingers. 

“This okay Tal?” Michael stops reading to ask, “Are you hurting?” 

“No.” Talan says before trying to clear his throat. 

“You’re doing good.” Michael reassures.

“You’re okay now.” Ryan soothes. 

Talan gives them another thumbs up. 

Ryan can’t think of how frightening this must be for Talan. He doesn’t know where Talan was while he was sedated and sick. Doesn’t know what he was dreaming about when he was agitated after surgery. He doesn’t know if Talan really understands what’s going on, if Talan understands that it’ll get better. 

“Soon as we can get you home we will.” Michael promises, “You’re gonna go home.” 

Talan looks confused and Ryan worries they’ve overwhelmed him. Keeping up with their conversation seems to exhaust his limited reserves of energy. He falls asleep before Michael can finish the chapter.

“Suddenly up came Gollum and whispered and hissed: ‘Bless us and splash us, my precioussss!’” Michael keeps reading.

“You’re not doing the voices.” Ryan reproaches when Michael gets to Gollum. 

“He’s sleeping Ry.” Michael points out. 

“I’m not.” Ryan answers, “I want voices.”

“Ry-” Michael complains. 

“Tal likes voices.” Ryan rationalizes, reaching to take Talan’s glasses off his face. “Please.”

Ryan knows the problem is that they’re in public. That at home Michael would have no qualms about reading the story in character. Michael the dad is a side of him no one outside their family has ever had a chance to see. It’s a part of him Ryan has always loved, something he’d always known Michael would have despite Michael’s own doubts. Something he’s always wished Michael would be less self conscious about. 

“Voices.” Talan croaks, stopping Ryan from taking his glasses, “Dad.” 

“See?” Ryan points from the book to Talan, “Voices.” 

Michael sighs at both of them but he smiles. He glances up at the door before he starts to read again. 

“Bless us and splash us, my precioussss!” He rereads, his voice deep and raspy. 

“Good.” Ryan applauses. 

Ryan leans onto Talan’s mattress. He drags his chair closer to the bed and rests his head right above Talan’s shoulder. Talan moves to be close to him. 

“Better?” Ryan asks.

“Yeah.” Talan answers, “Better.” 

*

Oliver doesn’t leave the house. 

He doesn’t ask about going back to Miami, doesn’t ask to call his parents and even though the days marked on his calendar are getting fewer and fewer; he doesn’t bother thinking about Harvard. 

He picks at the meals Hilary cooks and pretends to drink the smoothies she makes with extra protein powder. He grows tired of her hovering and lies about going on walks, instead of leaving he hides in the tree house. 

He watches more television than he’s watched in the past year. He catches up on movies he’d meant to go see and whatever is still recorded on their PVR. He starts to watch Olympic basketball but gives up when his face comes on the highlight reel during every commercial break. 

“Fuck.” He complains when he watches himself receive his first medal for the fifth time in twenty minutes. 

He angrily shuts off the television, kicks back on the couch and lets Bert jump up on his chest. He rubs his dog’s ears and scrunches up his face when Bert starts to lick his cheek. 

Beside the couch Hoops starts to cry. 

“He’s not here.” Oliver informs Talan’s dog, “I’m sorry.” 

Hoops searches for Talan endlessly. He sits by Talan’s bedroom and scratches at the closed door trying to get in. He wines at them constantly trying to get them to follow him. 

“Stop.” Oliver leans his head off the couch to be closer to Hoops’ level. 

Oliver scoops up Hoops and rests him down on his chest beside Bert’s head. The dog calms down for a second before it sits up, digs his back paws into Oliver’s stomach and whines again. 

“Come on.” Oliver groans, “I can’t make him come home.” 

Hoops walks up Oliver’s chest before jumping over his shoulder and down on the floor. He leaves the living room and Oliver knows he’s going to wait by Talan’s room. 

The doorbell rings and Oliver doesn’t bother getting up from the couch. He closes his eyes and shifts to give Bert more room. He waits to hear his aunt run down the stairs but instead he hears the front door open. 

“Dude.” Evan says walking into the living room, “You gotta leave the house.” 

Evan points from the couch to the window and motions towards the world outside. When Oliver doesn’t acknowledge him, Evan drops down on the couch landing with force on Oliver’s feet.

“I’m okay.” Oliver defends his hermit status. He tries to move his feet from under Evan, “I don’t have to go anywhere.”

“You cry in your sleep.” Evan states. “You’re not okay.” 

Evan sneaks in at night and Oliver can’t even worry about being caught. Having Evan there makes things easier. He tries not to think that Evan also has a calendar with a countdown to college. That in five days they’re both suppose to leave to different places. 

“Yeah no.” Evan refuses to believe him, “That’s bullshit.” 

“Don’t believe me whatever.” Oliver shrugs, “I don’t care.” 

“Whatever.” Evan rolls his eyes, “We’re going out.” 

“No.” Oliver insists, “I’m busy.” 

“What are you doing?” Evan asks. 

Evan steals the remote and turns the television back on. Oliver’s tearful face in front of an American flag fills the screen before the shot zooms in on the medal around his neck. 

“You’re not busy.” Evan says before he shuts the television off again. “Let’s go.” 

Oliver stares at Evan ready to argue but can’t come up with a good excuse. 

“Fine.” Oliver agrees, “But we’re getting food.” 

“Tofu burgers yeah.” Evan laughs, “Smoothies with leaves.”

“Fuck off.” Oliver flips him off before he kicks his legs free to stand up, “We’re taking my car. I’m driving” 

Oliver yells that he’s leaving before walking out the door. It’s a beautiful day and he drives too fast. He reaches across the front seat to rest a hand on Evan’s thigh. He leaves his hand there, rubbing Evan’s sun warmed skin until he needs to change gears. 

Oliver drives to a restaurant his family never goes to and parks. He gets out of the car and waits for Evan to join him. They walk side by side to the door and without thinking Oliver snakes his arm around Evan’s waist. 

“Dude.” Evan looks at Oliver puzzled before side stepping away from him. “Stop.” 

The reality of his life comes crashing down on Oliver in a way it hadn’t since leaving New York. Evan and him don’t hold hands in public. Evan and him had broken up. 

“We don’t.” Evan explains. 

“Yeah.” Oliver agrees, putting his hands in the pockets of his shorts, “Sorry.” 

Oliver’s appetite doesn’t magically reappear. He picks at his pizza and glances around the restaurant nervously hoping no one recognizes him. Evan eats without talking looking up at Oliver from time to time. 

“It’s just we can’t you know?” Evan breaks the silence, “Before we didn’t.” 

“I know.” Oliver explains before he takes a sip of his pop, “I just forgot… My brain’s everywhere.” 

“You still on those meds?” Evan asks, “I googled what they are.” 

“Ran out.” Oliver lies, pretends the orange bottle isn’t hidden at the bottom of his bag, “Just have the ones to sleep.” 

“Maybe you should get more.” Evan suggests quietly, “Like I don’t think you’re good.” 

The silence between them is usually comfortable but Evan’s suggestions leaves them both awkwardly silent. When Oliver looks up at Evan though, Evan is staring at his plate. 

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” Evan admits, “Who’s gonna make sure you’re good?” 

Evan news shocks Oliver and he tries to wrap his mind around the idea of his best friend leaving four days earlier than expected. The idea of college is suddenly more scary than exciting. 

“I haven’t even packed.” Oliver says still trying to get over the statement. 

“So today’s it you know?” Evan finishes. 

“Yeah.” Oliver nods. 

The silence falls over their table again and Oliver can see that it’s painfully obvious they aren’t just best friends hanging out. 

“Fuck.” Evan groans. “I didn’t wanna like- I just had to say bye and I can’t… We’re friends and it’s-” 

“Yeah.” Oliver understands, “I get it.” 

“You’re gonna be okay?” Evan asks.

“Yeah.” Oliver answers with fake confidence, “I’m okay.” 

“Yeah.” Evan nods before smiling wide at him. “Eat dude. Your aunt’s food is gross.”

They finish the entire pizza. Oliver is drinking a second glass of Mountain Dew by the time Evan decides that he’s doing better. 

“Wanna go see a movie?” Evan suggests, “We should hang out.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver decides. Watching a movie seems easier than spending the next few hours worrying about packing, Evan leaving and Harvard. 

“Awesome.” Evan grins, “My mom’s going crazy packing I need to not be home.”

They’ve been friends since before they could talk, brought together because of their parents. They’ve swam together since the learn to swim classes and spent entire summers failing the Speed Club’s life guarding program. 

It’s hard to think that this is their last day together. It’s supposed to hurt but Oliver just feels numb. He finds himself wishing he was swimming laps at the Speed Club. It would be easier to think of nothing while swimming laps. 

Oliver drives to the same movie theatre they always go to. Since they have no idea what they want to watch they stand side-by-side a dozen feet away from the cash starring at the movie titles and the start times. 

“Yeah dude.” Oliver agrees on the movie Evan’s selected, “We can make that.” 

The movie starts in twenty minutes and the lines for tickets and for concessions are long. 

“I’ll get popcorn.” Evan says even though they’ve just finished eating, “You get the tickets.”

Oliver stands in line by himself and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He automatically thinks of texting Talan and stops himself. Instead, he reads through the last exchange he’d had with Casey. 

He sends her a message to ask what she’s doing and stares at his screen waiting for her to answer. She sends back a picture of her on a couch watching television in underwear and a t-shirt. Oliver forgets to walk forward when the line moves.

“Oliver?” 

The voice isn’t familiar but Oliver turns around anyways. A teenage girl he doesn’t know is standing behind him with a group of friends. 

“It’s him.” One of the friends squeals. “It’s him. Oh my god.” 

Six cellphones are pointed at him before he fully realizes what’s happening. 

“Stop?” He asks bothered by the flashes that go off, “Come on.”

“Take a picture with me?” One of the girls asks ignoring his request, “I love you.” 

“I’m getting tickets.” Oliver tries to explain before pointing to the machine “My friend’s waiting we’re gonna be-” 

“Omg are you on a date?” The girl with brown hair asks like this could be the end of the world, “You said you were single.” 

The girls at the airport in New York had been different. 

“We didn’t know you were home.” Another girl says, “We were going to drive by your house to see but then we knew you were with your brother.”

“But you’re here so he’s better right?” Another girl fills in, “Talan’s okay?” 

Oliver tries to look for a way out but more people have gathered around him. He tries to spot Evan but the concession stands are across the theatre. 

“I thought he died.” The first girl says again, “Is that why you’re back?” 

“Oh my god he’s dead?” 

“No.” Oliver says, “He’s-” 

Oliver has no idea how Talan’s doing because he hasn’t asked questions in days. He’d purposely walked out of the kitchen when Hilary had brought up the subject the day before. He doesn’t know if Tal’s better or if he’s still fighting the infection that had almost killed him. 

“But he’s really sick right? He could die.”

Oliver turns back towards the ticket machine and tries to ignore them. It doesn’t work though. They keep asking questions and more people start calling out his name. Flustered he keeps hitting buttons on the screen but selects the wrong movie and the wrong date. 

“We sent cards to him.” A voice behind Oliver says, “Did he get them?”

Oliver closes his eyes. He can’t concentrate on buying tickets anymore. When he turns back more cell phones are pointed at him. More people are crowding around and no one’s coming to help. 

 

“Can we have a picture?” The voice is older and Oliver opens his eyes to see a mom pushing her kid towards him, “He wants to swim. His name’s-” 

Oliver can’t take it. 

“Can we call Talan?” One girl says over the mom, “He was in my chemistry class?” 

“No.” Oliver manages to say, “Tal doesn’t have chemistry.” 

It’s a dumb thing to remember but Oliver can’t think of anything else. He looks at the mom who’s still pushing her child insistently towards him and to the girls who seem to have created some kind of Talan grieving club. He feels like a sideshow. 

“Don’t take my picture.” He snaps, remembering the line his dads had taught him to say to photographers when he was still little. 

“He wants to swim like you.” The mom says again. “What’s wrong with you? You’re a-”

Oliver leaves. He doesn’t think of Evan or of the videos that are probably being shot. He doesn’t think of what people might say. He wishes either of his dads were there to protect him. Knows Ryan would have shielded him and talked back to the pushy mom. 

His car is parked on the other side of the movie theatre. He fumbles with his key before unlocking the door, getting in and locking the doors again. He doesn’t turn on the ac or the radio. He just sits in the Audi the sweltering Florida heat has turned into a sauna and tries to calm down. 

It takes five minutes for Evan to find him. Evan knocks on the window and Oliver unlocks the door for him. 

“So… Oliver Phelps-Lochte’s an asshole.” Evan tries to joke, “Won’t take pictures with kids.” 

“Fuck you.” Oliver covers his face but he’s glad Evan’s there. “It’s not funny.” 

“We’re gonna die like this.” Evan points out before reaching for Oliver’s keys. “Get some AC up in here.” 

Oliver’s shirt is soaked in sweat. He takes a sip of the mountain dew still in his cup holder but the pop tastes watered down and is almost hot. 

“Goddamn.” He swears disgusted. He opens his car door to spit it out.

Evan turns on the car and the AC. They sit in silence for a few minutes letting the car cool down. When the temperature inside is tolerable, Evan reaches into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulls out a bag of sour patch kids. 

“Eat candy.” He tells Oliver, “Talk.” 

The sour patch kids are soft from being in the car heat and Oliver presses two together before popping them in his mouth. He eats another two before talking. 

“I just wanted to hang out.” Oliver starts, “I didn’t think people would care like they didn’t care before. We missed the movie.” 

“Who gives a shit about the movie.” Evan brushes off. 

“I do.” Oliver says angrily, “I hate I can’t just go. I hate they think they can say shit about Tal and I don’t know what’s going on.” 

“Yo we can call the hospital.” Evan tries to appease.

“It’s fucked.” Oliver keeps going and his voice cracks. 

He tries to keep eating more sour patch kids to distract himself from crying but it doesn’t work. Tears run down his face, streaking through the sweat and he turns away from Evan. 

“Yeah.” Evan agrees. He pretends he doesn’t see Oliver crying, “It is.”

“I hate this.” Oliver says angrily, “This was gonna be the good part yeah? Like go on interviews and have fun and leave for Harvard and now I’m stuck here. Talan fucked everything up.” 

It’s the first time Oliver has allowed himself to put his feelings into words. The anger he hasn’t let himself feel comes out full force in the middle of a full Daytona Beach mall parking lot. He’s embarrassed to be crying and ashamed that he feels this way. He bites the skin of his thumb because his nails are too short. 

“Dude.” Evan says cautiously, “Tal didn’t-” 

“No he did. He’s always dumb.” Oliver says frustrated without waiting for Evan to finish. He wipes more tears away from his face, “He knew he wasn’t suppose to drop in. They told him not to and he just went and now we’re here and-” 

“My Dad said he’s like your dad you know like stuff he used to do.” 

“They’re both dumb.” Oliver says, “My dad just left me? On the beach?” 

“Ain’t okay.” Evan nods in agreement even if he doesn’t really understand what Oliver is saying. 

“He won’t even stay with me y’know?” Oliver uses the hem of his t-shirt to hide his face, ashamed to still be crying in front of Evan, “Like he was suppose to be with me and stay and he left to go back with Tal… He didn’t care I got hurt or I was-” 

“He cared dude.” Evan tries to reassure, “You feel like-” 

“No.” Oliver refuses. 

Oliver sobs hard and Evan isn’t sure what to do. Eventually, Evan leans his head against Oliver’s shoulder. He doesn’t know what to say to make his best friend feel better. 

“Everyone’s at the hospital and everyone is trying to get Tal to eat and stay awake and feel better and Tal’s not- He’s like not getting better. No one tells me anything I have to google shit and Tal wouldn’t even be there without me he’d still fucking be in the rocks no one else tried. I’m the only one who swam out.” 

Oliver is angry. He pounds his hand on the steering wheel and can’t get himself to calm down. He gulps down air between sobs. 

“I like sleep and I can’t swim fast enough. So he dies.” 

“That’s fucked up.” Evan agrees before reaching for another gummy candy before he holds out the bag to Oliver, “Eat dude”

“An you’re leaving and I’m staying here.” Oliver chokes out, ignoring the candy “Hate it.”

“You’re leaving too.” Evan points out. 

“How?” Oliver challenges. 

“Like...” Evan starts cautiously not wanting to cross a line, “I don’t have a brother but I think you can still care about Talan but want stuff for you too. Going to Harvard doesn’t make you an asshole.”

Oliver doesn’t say anything because Evan’s said the only thing he’d wanted to hear. He eats another sour patch kid and rests his head on top of Evan’s. 

“Not signing autographs for kids though.” Evan jokes again, “That makes you an asshole.” 

*

Talan is in better spirits the morning after he comes off sedation. Ryan and him watch a movie while they wait for morning rounds to start and for Michael to get back from the hotel. 

On the tray table beside the bed is the variety of soft foods Talan is allowed to eat. The ice chips are still the only things he’s interested in. 

“There you go.” Ryan feeds Talan a spoonful of ice, “That’s okay.” 

Talan is doing better but still tired and reluctant to talk. His bed is raised and he’s sitting up surrounded by pillows. He’s wearing an unzipped hoodie over his light blue hospital gown and after three washes the night before, the bloodstains have slowly started to lift out of his hair.

He chews his ice carefully and swallows before reaching for the spoon Ryan is still holding. 

“Yeah dude do it.” Ryan encourages, “You got this.” 

Talan slowly dips the spoon into the cup. He struggles to pick up some ice before bringing it to his mouth. 

“Good.” Ryan praises, “Your physio guy’s gonna be so proud.” 

Parenthood has taught Ryan patience. It’s taught him to slow down to let small people with tiny legs catch up. It’s taught him to wait for Oliver and Talan to do things on their own. It’s taught him to wait for Talan to decide to walk and for Oliver to decide to put his head under water. It’s taught him to explain homework and to teach how to form letters the right way, writing the boys’ names over and over again on primary printed-paper and letting them retrace it. 

He doesn’t care that they’re teaching Talan to use a spoon with his right hand and that in a few weeks they’ll watch him relearn how to walk. 

Talan drops the spoon. 

“Just pick it back up.” Ryan cheers, like it’s a difficult set Oliver can’t quite finish, “You can do it.” 

Talan picks up the spoon and drops it in the cup Ryan is still holding. 

“Food.” Talan asks. He clears his throat before he speaks again, 

It’s a relief to hear Talan talk. 

“Yeah?” Ryan nods, “We got Jello or applesauce. Think we have some pudding too.”

“Pudding.” Talan looks at what’s on the tray, “Vanilla.”

There are no vanilla pudding cups on the tray. Ryan picks up a pack of butterscotch and holds it up to Talan who frowns at the flavor. 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “I’ll be right back.” 

Talan nods and Ryan has second doubts leaving the room. He hates leaving Talan alone. 

“I’ll ask the nurse to come in.” Ryan decides, “So you got someone to hang out with.” 

“Lucky.” Talan rolls his eyes. 

Ryan’s gone for five minutes, when he returns with the vanilla pudding Talan is wearing his glasses and squeezing a stress ball painted to look like a basketball with his right hand. 

“Throw it at me Talan.” The nurse encourages. 

Talan throws the ball and Ryan’s happy to see that even using the wrong hand, his aim isn’t too bad. The nurse throws it back and Talan catches it just as easy. 

“Good!” the nurse cheers, “Keep doing that with him Dad! He’s doing great.” 

Talan raises his eyebrows at Ryan before trying to throw the ball. The stress ball makes it halfway to him before falling to the ground. 

“I’ll get closer.” Ryan offers, “Got your pudding.”

“Throw.” Talan demands. 

Ryan waits for the rest of Talan’s sentence but it doesn’t come. He puts the pudding down on the tray table and stares at his son. He understands that Talan is exhausted and recovering but his one-worded answers are worrisome. 

“Make a sentence.” Ryan asks, sitting down on the bed beside Talan’s feet. “Please.” 

“She can’t aim.” Talan says. “I’m bored. Throw.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “This ain’t a lot of fun.” 

“I want real food.” Talan complains, “Mac and cheese.” 

“We’ll ask your nurse.” Ryan says, “Dad can bring some over.” 

Talan’s already lost weight. The part of his collarbone that isn’t bandaged juts out against his skin. His cheeks are hollow and his eyes look sunken. There’s nothing Ryan wants more than to take Talan home and let Ike and Kristin cook for him. 

“Tired of being in here.” Talan admits, “Sucks.” 

“You’re doing good.” Ryan tries to encourage, he tosses the ball and Talan catches it. “You’re getting better.” 

Talan throws the ball again and this time it makes it all the way to Ryan. Ryan throws it back at him and Talan misses. The ball rolls off his bed and gets lost somewhere on the floor. 

“Hard with the wrong hand.” Ryan excuses while he goes looking for the ball.

“Over it.” Talan says defeated. 

“It’ll get better.” Ryan reassures Talan before handing the ball to him, “One day at a time yeah?” 

It’s hard for Ryan to wrap his mind around Talan’s laundry list of injuries. He can’t imagine how difficult it must be for Talan to deal with it. 

“I’m all…” Talan searches for his words, “Shaky.”

“What d’you mean?” Ryan asks worried, “You cold?” 

“No like.” Talan sighs, “Doesn’t feel real.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan’s voice gets softer.

“Over it.” Talan repeats. 

“Baby you got tons of meds.” Ryan tries to comfort, he sits back beside Talan’s bed. “You’re out of it.” 

“Sucks.” Talan turns his head to look at Ryan. 

“I know.” Ryan agrees. 

Talan closes his eyes and slouches against the pillows propping him up. Ryan realizes that he might have asked too much. He feels guilty for demanding more energy out of Talan than Talan was willingly giving. 

“Still want this?” Ryan holds up the pack of pudding. 

“Wanna wear pants.” Talan sighs and tugs his blankets up higher, “Nurses see me naked.” 

“They don’t care Baby.” Ryan reassures, “They see everyone naked.” 

Talan looks unimpressed. He scratches around the tape covering the bandage on his shoulder before he runs his fingers under the strap that supports his brace. It’s easy to tell he’s uncomfortable. Ryan looks at his watch and sees Talan is soon due for his next dose of painkillers. 

“Pudding?” Ryan offers as a distraction. 

“Yes.” Talan decides. 

Ryan opens the pudding container and swings the tray table over Talan’s bed. He puts it down in front of Talan before handing him a spoon.

“You do it.” Talan asks holding out the spoon to Ryan. “My ribs hurt.” 

Ryan manages to get Talan to eat three spoonfuls before he holds up his hand to stop him.

“No.” Talan pushes the pudding away from him, “Feels weird.” 

“Your throat hurt?” Ryan takes the pudding away and holds out a glass of water. “Drink. Want more ice chips?” 

“No.” Talan slumps down even more, “Stomach feels gross.” 

“Sleep.” Ryan suggests, “You’ll feel better. Dad will be here when you wake up.” 

“You?” Talan asks. 

“Yeah dude.” Ryan shrugs off his questions, “I don’t leave.” 

Ryan lowers Talan’s bed and moves the pillows around him. He restarts the movie they’d been watching earlier and waits for Talan to fall asleep. 

Talan stays awake though. He stays close to Ryan and chews on the string of his hoodie. 

“Baby go to sleep.” Ryan urges when he sees Talan’s eyes close and spring open again, he touches the tablet to stop the movie. “You have to sleep.” 

“No.” Talan refuses.

“Hurt?” Ryan guesses, “I can call the nurse she’s-” 

“No.” Talan warns. 

“Then what’s up?” Ryan asks, “Want me to read?” 

“No.” Talan answers.   
“I’m here.” Ryan reminds him, “I ain’t gonna leave.” 

Talan ignores him. Instead he reaches forward to restart the movie. He winces as he stretches forward and holds his hand against his ribs. 

“Take it easy Tal.” Ryan urges, “I’m calling the nurse.” 

“Don’t.” Talan whines. He tries to stop Ryan from hitting the call button but isn’t able to. He groans frustrated. 

“I don’t like pain pills either Tal.” Ryan tries to empathize, “but you need them.” 

“Mmno.” Talan mumbles.

“You scared?” Ryan guesses. 

Talan hesitates before nodding. 

“Tell me. I’ll fix it.” 

When Talan and Oliver had been little Ryan had been able to shoulder most of their fears. He could make take them away from loud noises, prove there was no monster under the bed, install nightlights, stay and volunteer at school so they weren’t alone and carry them against the waves into the ocean. As they’d grown older their fears had been harder to shoulder and that had been a hard reality to accept. 

Talan answers the nurse’s questions about his pain levels. He lets her fix the strap of his brace and replace the tape running across his collarbone. Ryan watches it unfold carefully trying to pinpoint what Talan is afraid of. 

It scares Ryan to see Talan like this. Scared and hurt, answering questions about which of his injuries bother him the most. Talan should be home annoying Oliver while Oliver packs for college. Talan should be out in the backyard practicing his layups to get ready for basketball tryouts. Talan should be wasting his days hanging out at the beach with his friends and trying to talk them into letting him adopt another dog. 

“Alright hun.” The nurse says pushing buttons, “You should feel that soon.” 

“Thanks.” Ryan says as she walks out of the room. 

Despite his determination to stay awake, the painkillers make Talan even drowsier. He struggles against it, startling himself awake when he does drift off. 

“Talan.” Ryan tries to reason, “Tell me.” 

“What if I don’t wake up?” Talan says quietly. 

“I make sure you do.” Ryan promises. 

* 

Talan falls asleep. 

“Everything looks good.” The nurse tells Ryan when she comes in to check on Talan, “He’s doing great. Did he eat?”

“Not really.” Ryan holds up the still half full pudding cup, “He wants real food.” 

“We can get him a dinner tray when he wakes up.” The nurse offers, “That might be better.” 

“He’s vegetarian.” Ryan points out. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” The nurse smiles, “I’m right outside.”

She leaves and Ryan is out of things to do. He doesn’t want to bother Talan and he’s has nothing else to entertain himself. He finds a pen on the tray table and picks up Talan’s sketchbook. He opens it to the last sketch Talan had started to draw and starts filling it in. Slowly Talan’s beach becomes a planet and the palm trees swirl together at the top to melt into the sky. Ryan gets lost filling the top half of the page with tiny circles. He keeps listening to the heart monitor counting on its steady beeps to tell him Talan is still alright. 

He realizes his mistake when the page is completed and he remembers that Talan doesn’t usually share his sketchbooks. What they’re allowed to see is what he decides to show them. Ryan thumbs through the pages regardless. He ignores the anatomically absurd drawings of naked girls and lingers on sketches of the dogs, their house, and a half finished self-portrait. 

Ryan finds a blank page and starts to draw, he thinks of what Talan would like and remembers the waves he’d painted on the wall of Talan’s nursery. He draws waves and adds a turtle wearing a cape. He figures that at the very least his drawing will make Talan laugh. 

Ryan meets with the doctors and calls Michael to put him on speakerphone. He talks about how Talan is too scared to sleep, how he won’t eat and how discouraged he seems. Ryan brings up Talan’s anxiety problems and bites his lip waiting for Michael to speak out against putting Talan back on medication. 

Instead of disagreeing with him, Michael backs him up. He’s equally as worried about Talan and it’s a relief to hear. 

The meeting ends and Michael hangs up before Ryan can grab the phone to talk to him. Talan is still asleep. Ryan goes back to drawing and tries not to think about the months of rehab ahead of Talan. He doesn’t want to think of how they’re going to tell Talan he won’t be able to walk right away. 

Instead of worrying about all the stairs in their house Talan won’t be able to climb Ryan adds details to the turtle and starts to draw Talan. He’s never been good at drawing people but he tries. Makes Talan’s legs too long and gives up on sketching the rest of his son, instead he focuses on the sneakers Talan is wearing. He wishes he had colour. 

Michael comes back to the hospital shortly after the call. He’s rested and freshly showered. He brings coffee and a change of clothes for Ryan. It’s a low-key peace offering that Ryan gratefully accepts. 

“Thanks.” Ryan says closing the sketchbook, “You hung up fast.” 

Michael settles himself into the other chair but doesn’t reach for Talan. He takes a sip of his coffee before he answers. 

“Figured you just wanted to get back here.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan confirms, “Don’t like him being alone.” 

They both drink coffee in silence and watch Talan sleep. Ryan thumbs the edge of the sketchbook and steals occasional glances at Michael. 

“So he’s good?” Michael asks, “I know they said he was stable but they don’t know him right?”

“He’s talking.” Ryan fills him in.

“Good he’s talking.” Michael says relieved, “Is he like him?” 

“Yeah he is.” Ryan answers knowing what Michael means and understanding that Michael is just as worried as he is. “Wants mac and cheese and pants.” 

“Yeah?” Michael says hopefully. 

“He was playing catch with the nurse.” Ryan offers, because it’s not use keeping details like this from his husband regardless of how they feel about each other. “He’s anxious but he’s better Mike.”

“He’s worried about sleep?” Michael asks remembering the meeting with the doctor. 

“Scared he won’t wake up.” Ryan lowers his head, “Didn’t want pain meds.” 

Michael hangs his head too. Ryan knows his husband hates knowing either of the boys is scared. Knows Michael thinks it’s his responsibility to make sure both their kids feel safe. 

“How long’s he been sleeping?” Michael asks. 

“’Bout three hours.” Ryan informs him, “If he wakes up the nurse said he could eat. Maybe he’ll feel better.”

“Go change.” Michael reminds him, “I’m here.” 

They’re walking on the same eggshells but they’re definitely nicer to each other. On his way out of the ICU, Ryan notices that Michael had made the effort of finding his favourite t-shirt. In a bathroom, he splashes water on his face and brushes his teeth before changing. He feels slightly more human when he walks back to Talan’s room. 

Ryan walks back into Talan’s room to the sound of Michael reading The Hobbit. He puts the book down when he notices Ryan.

“Did they wash his hair?” Michael asks.

“I did.” Ryan sits down, “Blood kinda came out. Might need to cut it.” 

“It’s better though.” Michael says almost as a thank you. 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees. “See what he wants to do.”

It’s ridiculous to worry about Talan’s hair when they should worry about him relearning to walk. Ryan watches Michael tuck strands of Talan’s hair behind his ear and towards the elastic. 

They lapse back into silence but Ryan can sense it’s not the same angry quiet as before. He looks up at Michael and Michael is staring at him. 

“I was thinking we need to like-” Michael starts, “Talk more… About this.” 

“About Tal?” Ryan asks. 

“No.” Michael stops him, “Us.” 

They have to talk about Talan. They need to talk about Oliver. They need to talk about Harvard, the stairs in their house, who will stay with Talan while they’re away, how Talan will come home and about figuring out their insurance. The list is a mile long but Ryan understands that they need to make their relationship a priority. 

“Yeah we do.” Ryan agrees, “I just dunno where to start.”

It’s discouraging to think about how much they’ve let slip. Ryan has a hard time remembering how it had felt to be close to Michael in Costa Rica. It should be easy to know where to start. They should start with being nineteen and in love and twenty-nine and married, thirty with Oliver and thirty-two with Talan. They should remember thirty-five and losing their home to a hurricane, forty with huge surprise parties and older now with a high school graduation. 

“I don’t want to talk in front of Tal.” Michael whispers, “He can’t-”

“We can’t leave.” Ryan points out.

“Ry-” 

“No.” Ryan refuses, not wanting Talan to wake up alone. “We’re talking here.” 

“Fine.” Michael concedes, “That’s okay.” 

There’s still no privacy. They stare at each other across Talan’s bed right in front of the glass wall. It’s the middle of the day and the ICU is alive with activity. Neither of them talks because neither of them knows where to start.

“You said I didn’t care.” Michael breaks the silence, “That I didn’t get what it was like because I couldn’t-” 

“He’s just mine you know?” Ryan tries to defend himself, “They said he was dying and I thought of not having him and I-” 

“He’s mine too.” Michael cuts in, “The same.” 

Michael wants to point out that Talan is like him too. He wants to remind Ryan that he’d been the one in the delivery room. That he’d held and comforted Talan first. 

“I know.” Ryan agrees. “They said he was dying. They said his liver wasn’t going to stop and I could give him mine and you said not to. He was dying Mike.” 

Ryan hangs his head and tries to force the memory out. He squeezes his fists against the side of his head to try and force the pain out. Thinking of it makes his chest hurt. 

“Ry-” Michael says his name kindly but doesn’t get up to comfort him, “He’s okay.” 

“Not until he’s okay.” Ryan says his voice breaking “Not until he’s home.” 

Ryan hates crying. He hangs his head and tries to regain his composure. He hears the nurse walk in, listens to her greet Michael but doesn’t look up. 

“He’s going to be fine.” Michael says after the nurse has left. “So we gotta figure out how-” 

It’s a gentle prompt back to the subject at hand and Ryan knows Talan is no longer an excuse. 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, wiping his eyes before looking up. “We gotta.” 

“So how?” Michael asks. 

It’s a big question and Ryan considers it for a moment. 

Ryan gets out of his chair and paces the small room. The tiny space Talan has occupied since getting back from Costa Rica is still impersonal and bare. No flowers or cards are allowed in the ICU and the rooms are outfitted for children way younger than 15. 

“Um.” Ryan hesitates, “This not gonna be over when we’re home. We got like physio. He ain’t gonna be able to go upstairs or do stuff himself.” Ryan stops talking for a minute, “We’re gonna be taking care of him.”

“Us Ry.” Michael tries to refocus him. “Not Tal.” 

“It is us though.” Ryan argues, “We can’t not fight in here when we’re talkin’ ‘bout him what about home?” 

“So we gotta fix it.” 

“I don’t know how.” Ryan shrugs, “We both said stuff-” 

“We didn’t mean.” Michael finishes because waiting for Ryan to form entire thoughts is excruciating. 

“Don’t.” Ryan warns. 

The nurse walks in again and stops their conversation. She checks on Talan who blinks awake. He looks around anxiously until he spots Michael. 

“We’re here.” Michael reaches towards the bed because he’s closer than Ryan, “Go back to sleep.” 

“Thirsty.” Talan says before he tries to sit up. 

Talan can’t get out of bed or walk on his own. He can’t get his own water and the cup by the bed is empty. 

“I’ll get water.” Ryan offers. 

*

Michael’s left alone in the room with Talan. The nurse helps him sit up again and arranges pillows back around him. 

Talan looks around drowsily. He feels his ponytail and looks at Michael quizzically. 

“Dad.” Michael explains. 

Talan nods like he understands. 

“You look better.” Michael praises, “You get to eat.” 

“M’I still on pills that make me sleep?” Talan asks, his words slow and his voice deeper than it usually is. 

“Yeah Pal.” Michael answers, “For pain.” 

The change in Talan’s voice makes him sound a lot more like Ryan. His slow drawl reminds Michael of how Ryan had sounded back when they still smoked up together. How Ryan’s already slow speech would slow down to a painfully slow crawl. 

“I don’t want it.” Talan argues. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” Michael comforts, “We just don’t want you to hurt.” 

“No it’s okay.” Talan debates. “M’tough.” 

“You are.” Michael agrees, “I’m not.” 

Talan tries to reach for the notebook Ryan had been holding but doesn’t have enough slack on his IV’s and can’t position himself out of bed because of his hips. He groans in frustration and holds out his arm in front of him uselessly. He looks at the wires he’s connected to with disgust. 

“They take everything out tomorrow right?” Talan asks, “I get to leave here?” 

“If everything is okay yeah.” Michael says, “You go to a regular room.” 

“I get pants?” Talan tries. “Like no one else sees me naked?” 

“I’ll ask.” Michael answers trying not to let himself smile, “Who saw you naked Babe?” 

“Grandma.” Talan says horrified, “They moved the blanket and like-” 

“I’ll get you pants.” Michael assures. He reaches to brush more strands of Talan’s hair behind his ear, most of it has fallen out of the ponytail.

“I wanna be awake.” Talan tells Michael, “Make ‘em switch what makes me sleep.” 

“I’ll ask.” Michael promises, “We’ll ask uncle Bruce.” 

Talan nods, like Michael’s answers are good enough and Michael sighs in relief. The little things he can do to help Talan make him feel better. 

“You look good Babe.” Michael notes. “I love you.”

His voice breaks and Michael tries to cover it up. The last thing he wants is for Talan to worry about anything let alone about him. 

“Wanna hold my hand? Makes people feel better. Like magic on TV y’know?” Talan stops to yawn, “When they make people go all wahhh.”

Michael has no idea what Talan is talking about but he nods like he understands. Something he’s definitely done a million times with Ryan. 

“It’s to make you feel better.” Michael informs him. 

“I’m okay.” Talan decides, withdrawing his hand. “Can I get my ball?” 

Michael finds the small orange ball hidden between layers of blankets. He untangles it from the mess of pale blue flannel and hands it to Talan. 

“Can I lean on you?” Talan asks “S’hard to stay up straight.” 

Michael isn’t exactly sure how to help. He sits up on the side of the bed and lets Talan leans as far sideways as he can to get closer to him. 

“Is that better?” Michael checks. 

“Kinda.” Talan says unsure, “Maybe move my pillows.” 

Michael tries his best to help Talan out. Finally he puts his arm around Talan’s shoulder and tries to hold up as much of his weight as he can. He half hopes for Talan to go back to sleep but Talan stays awake. He perks up considerably when Ryan walks back in with both a glass of water and a covered tray of food. 

“I got no idea what’s under here.” Ryan warns, “So like don’t get stoked.” 

“I’ll get you food tomorrow.” Michael promises, “Soon as you’re out of ICU we’ll get you food.” 

“Now I’m scared.” Talan eyes the tray suspiciously, “What’s in here?” 

“I dunno.” Ryan says swinging the table back over Talan’s bed and dropping the tray on it, “Find out. You got juice.” 

Talan carefully lifts the lid off the tray and eyes the compartments of food. 

“Mac and cheese!” Michael says a little too enthusiastically when Talan lifts the cover off the first container. 

Ryan sighs in relief. 

Michael reaches and takes Talan’s utensils out of their plastic wrap. He hands him the fork while Ryan takes the lid off the other compartments of the tray revealing vegetables, a fruit cup, a whole-wheat bun and a cookie. 

“Hey stop.” Talan says trying to block hands off his tray, “I got this.” 

It’s a testament to how hungry Talan is that he doesn’t complain about any of the food. He clumsily stirs his macaroni before taking a bite. He eats all of it before he talks to either of them again. 

“Open my juice please.” He asks both of them still chewing his last forkful, “I need two hands.” 

Ryan gets to the juice first while Michael searches for something else Talan might need open. He pops the lid off a container of ranch dressing next to the carrot sticks and grabs the butter for Talan’s bun. 

“You guys are great.” Talan appreciates before grabbing a carrot stick and tentatively dipping it into the ranch, “I should do this more often.” 

“Don’t even joke about that.” Ryan says sternly, “It’s not funny.” 

“Like-” Talan chews through a mouthful of carrot, “I’m the one peeing in a bag.”

“Yeah dude.” Ryan says, “It’s still not funny.” 

 

Talan eats most of the food on his tray before the physiotherapist comes into his room. Once he leaves, Talan has a hard time staying awake. 

“Sleep.” Michael urges, “We’re both here.” 

By late afternoon, Talan is too tired to argue and too drowsy to resist. Once he’s sleeping, Michael and Ryan slip back into silence. 

Ryan still paces the room and Michael figures his husband’s restlessness is powered by exhaustion and not anger. 

“Ry.” Michael gets up and carefully pulls at Ryan’s arm to prevent him from doing another lap around the small room, “Go to the hotel.” 

“I wanna be here.” Ryan explains, “I don’t want him to be scared.”

“I’m here.” Michael tries to convince him, “We’re good. He’s not scared.” 

Ryan’s hand comes to rest on Michael’s chest and his fingers curl into his t-shirt. He hesitates for a second before he drops his head against Michael’s shoulder. 

“He’s okay Ry.” Michael says, allowing himself to rest his forehead against Ryan’s head, “We’re gonna take him home.”

Despite a week of accusations and belittlement Michael is amazed at Ryan’s persistence and his dedication to Talan. He knows that Talan wouldn’t be this okay without Ryan. 

“I’m gonna go.” Ryan decides. 

“I got this.” Michael motions towards Talan before bringing his hand to rub against Ryan’s back “I’ll make sure he eats dinner.” 

“It’s gotta be vegetarian.” Ryan reminds him, “He won’t eat it if it ain’t.” 

“I know.” Michael reminds him, “No animals, nothing weird.” 

They haven’t had the chance to talk about them, about going home or about going to Harvard. It’s useless to try and have a conversation with Ryan now when Ryan can barely stay awake long enough to decide to go back to the hotel. 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods. “I’ll come back later so you can go see Ols.”

Oliver is in Daytona and Michael hasn’t thought about him all day. He has a fleeting moment of intense guilt before Ryan’s lips brush against his own. The kiss takes him by surprise. 

“All that shit.” Ryan says when he pulls away, “I didn’t mean it.” 

Ryan gets back to the hospital late. Once Talan’s woken up, talked to a psychologist, eaten dinner and been lulled back to sleep by his evening meds. Michael’s voice is hoarse from finishing The Hobbit but Talan sleeps peacefully. 

Michael kisses Ryan before leaving and tries to force the uneasy feeling settling in his stomach away. 

An hour into his drive back to Daytona Michael realizes that he’s too exhausted to finish the trip without caffeine. He stops for coffee and a chocolate bar, blasts music and forces himself to stay awake. He thinks of Oliver who’s been alone with Hilary for the past three days and focuses harder on his destination. 

He’s hyped up on caffeine by the time he exits off the turnpike and hopes his pay toll pass is up to date. He drums his fingers relentlessly against the steering wheel and drives himself the remaining ten minutes home.

It’s past 2am and the streets of their gated community are empty. Michael has to force himself to obey the ridiculously low speed limit and to stop at every stop sign. 

Once he’s home, the only space left to park is directly behind Oliver’s Audi. Like always, Oliver is parked too far back and the end of Michael’s car is too close to the street. Michael’s annoyed Oliver hadn’t bothered to drive the extra foot closer to the garage door. 

It takes Michael a second to reacquaint himself with the familiarity of the feeling. Oliver hasn’t been home in months. It’s been a good eight weeks since Michael has felt annoyed at him for not parking right. 

He opens the front door carefully and is thankful Hilary hadn’t enabled the alarm. He locks the door behind him and makes his way up the stairs into Oliver’s bedroom. 

Hoops is the first to jump off Oliver’s bed. He rubs against Michael’s ankle and sniffs him while wagging his tail. 

“Sorry.” Michael whispers his apology to the dog, “Not yet.”

Oliver is still sleeping and Michael hesitates. He stays by the door and looks at the bed trying to decide if it’s better to wake up Oliver now or to wait until the morning. 

Bert barks at him and Oliver stirs. Michael watches his son turn over, stretch and settle back on his side. 

“Ols?” Michael calls out experimentally. 

Michael walks closer to the bed and waits to see if Oliver will wake up. 

“Ols.” Michael reaches down to gently shake Oliver’s shoulder, “Wake up Bud.”

“What?” Oliver asks startled. He looks at Michael’s face and curls back away from him, “No.” 

“No Bud.” Michael says quietly. “Tal’s awake. He’s okay.”

“Fuck.” Oliver swears. “Don’t do that.”

“Go back to sleep Bud.” Michael rubs Oliver’s back, feeling guilty for waking him up, “I’m gonna be in our room.” 

“Stay.” Oliver asks flipping around to look at Michael.

“Move over.” Michael says. 

Oliver gives Michael more space and Michael gets in beside him, kicking off his shoes and moving his legs around the dogs. He grabs a pillow, shoves it behind his head and tries to fight sleep for Oliver’s sake. 

“I called Harvard.” Oliver announces sounding wide-awake. 

“Ols.” Michael groans, “We said you were going you don’t have to-” 

“I can miss the first week.” Oliver cuts him off, “I talked to admission and they said it’s-” 

“No.” Michael argues, rubbing a hand over his face. He’s definitely too tired to have this conversation with Oliver, “You have to be there the first week.” 

“I don’t have to do anything.” Oliver retorts. 

“It’s not up for discussion.” Michael tries to sound as firm as he can.

“I decided.” Oliver argues, “ I made the call I said-” 

“You’re going to be there your first week.” Michael tells him. 

“You can’t tell me what to do.” Oliver says upset, “Not about this. Not about leaving.”

It’s late and Michael is exhausted. He feels guilty that he doesn’t have more energy to devote to Oliver. He forces himself to stand up and get out of Oliver’s bed. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning Ols.” He tries to end a conversation he doesn’t want to end up as a middle of the night fight. He doesn’t want to wake up Hilary. “Go back to sleep.”

Michael leaves. He knows from experience that Oliver is seething. Oliver doesn’t like not getting the last word and Oliver doesn’t like being told what to do. Oliver doesn’t call out after him though and Oliver doesn’t follow him out of the room. 

Once he’s in his room, Michael waits five minutes before he showers. He waits for Oliver to come stomping down the hallway to continue the fight. When all he hears is Hoops whining in Talan’s bedroom he gets ready for bed. 

The shower wakes him up. He’s compulsively checking his email when he finally does hear Oliver get out of his bedroom. He expects to hear him walk down the hallway towards the master bedroom but Oliver heads downstairs. 

Michael gets out of bed when he can’t tell if Oliver is heading to the kitchen or the backyard.

It turns out that Oliver is heading out the front door. Michael is halfway down the stairs when he sees Oliver grab his car keys and walk out of the . It takes two minutes before Oliver walks back into the house. 

Michael stands right by the door and they stare at each other in silence for an awkward thirty seconds. 

“My car’s blocking you in.” Michael guesses. 

“I was getting something.” Oliver says. 

Oliver’s hands are empty and Michael is worried. 

“What were you getting?” Michael asks. 

“Wasn’t in there.” Oliver lies, “Whatever.” 

“Oliver.” Michael sighs beyond tired, “Where were you going.” 

“I told you.” Oliver says annoyed, “I was getting something.” 

“Where were you going?” Michael asks again, “There’s still rules Oliver, you can’t just leave at-” Michael looks at his watch, “3:46 in the morning.” 

Oliver stands defiant, unwilling to give up any information and unwilling to deviate from his story. 

“Gimme your car keys and go back to bed.” Michael decides, holding out his hand towards his son, “You can’t leave after eleven.” 

“Are you serious?” Oliver says too loudly, “You’re home for like an hour and you’re-” 

“Bud.” Michael is more tired than angry. He forces himself to calm down, “We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“I can miss the first week.” Oliver decides to bring Harvard back up before he drops his keys into the basket instead of Michael’s out stretched hand. 

“We talk about it tomorrow.” Michael dismisses it, “Go to bed Bud.” 

“You woke me up.” Oliver accuses, “You owe-” 

“Oliver.” Michael snaps, he points towards the second floor. “I’m too tired to do this. Go to bed.” 

Instead of heading upstairs, Oliver walks past Michael through the kitchen and out the back door. Michael stands alone in the dark and still quiet hallway debating what to do. 

He knows Oliver wants to be left alone but he can’t go to bed without knowing if Oliver is still in the backyard or if he’s wandering around their neighborhood in the middle of the night. 

He finds Oliver in the pool swimming laps. His clothes are by one of the deckchairs and he’s wearing a pair of Speed Club issued practice jammers. Oliver had been on his way to the pool. 

Instead of interrupting Oliver, Michael sits on a cushionless chair and watches him swim. They’d dug out the pool after the hurricane had destroyed most of their backyard and a sizeable portion of their home when the boys had still been little. They’d made it deep enough for both Ryan and him to comfortably do laps side by side. 

The lights in the pool are open and Michael is almost hypnotized by Oliver’s strokes, he counts breaths along with him and itches to jump in to. 

He watches Oliver lose his rhythm, sees him struggle to readjust his speed and realizes too late that Oliver, who he can tell isn’t wearing goggles, has miscalculated the distance between himself and the wall. 

“THE WALL OLIVER.” Michael yells when Oliver comes up to breathe. “TURN.” 

Oliver's turn is messy. He kicks himself down and sideways. He manages to kick his way back up to the surface but only lasts a few strokes before he stop and trashes around.

Michael jumps in the moment Oliver starts to struggle and his arm is around his son's chest a second later. 

“You're good, I got you. Relax Ols. Breathe.” Michael swims them both to the side of the pool. 

Oliver coughs too hard to talk. 

“Did you swallow water?” Michael asks concerned. He keeps one hand firmly around Oliver's chest, “You good?” 

Oliver nods through his coughs.

“The ladder’s here.” Michael guides Oliver’s hand to the metal pole. “Get out.” 

Oliver pulls himself out of the pool with shaky arms and sits down on the concrete. He spits on the ground and coughs some more. 

“What the hell was that?” Michael asks stepping between his son and the pool.

Michael’s tone surprises him. His voice echoes with memories of Bob at bad morning practices. He’s infuriated like he always is when the boys fool around near the pool. 

“What if I hadn’t been out here Oliver?” Michael questions still angry, “You could-” 

“I forgot.” Oliver says, still trying to catch his breath, “How many strokes.” 

Michael knows it’s a lie because Oliver’s been swimming in this pool his entire life. He’s sure that Oliver knows by heart how many strokes it takes from one end to the other. 

“Go inside.” Michael orders. 

Oliver listens without talking back. 

Michael is left alone, soaking wet in the backyard no one has taken care of all summer. There are decorations left from their Fourth of July party and firework shell casings littered across the grass. The air is muggy and far away across the sky he can see the lightening Ryan always dismisses as storms over the Everglades. 

He forces himself to calm down. He tells himself Oliver would have been fine alone. That the kid who had beaten his gold medal count a few weeks ago would have been able to keep himself afloat long enough to reach the ladder that Oliver would have seen the wall on his own before hitting his head that Oliver wouldn’t have been stupid enough to go swim alone at the Speed Club in the middle of the night. 

Once his anger has flared down and his clothes are damper than soaked Michael walks back into the house. 

Oliver’s shoes are by the front door, his car is in the driveway and his wallet is beside the keys on the table in the front hallway. His bedroom door is closed but Michael walks in anyways. 

Oliver is sitting up in bed watching a movie on his laptop. Michael doesn’t give him a chance to talk. 

“You’re not missing a week.” He says from the doorway, “That’s not up to you.” 

Oliver starts to protest and Michael stops him again. 

“You can’t stay here an extra week it’s not good for you, it’s not good for anyone.” 

“It’s good for Tal.” Oliver manages to get a word in, “And dad it’s-” 

“You’re going to school.” Michael decides, “On time. Your Dad and me we’re both going to bring you and do all the things with all the other parents. That’s for you Oliver and for me. I have to bring you.” 

“Dad’s not-” 

“For you he will.” Michael stops him. “We said we would.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hobbit was written by Tolkien.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading. I apologize for how late this was
> 
> I love hearing from you, it makes writing feel a little less lonely. 
> 
> <3

Michael falls asleep instantly. 

He’s woken up a few hours later by the incessant ringing of his cell phone. He answers the call before his eyes are full open and forces himself to stay calm. He can’t handle bad news.

“Mike?” Ryan’s voice is a whisper. 

“Dad?” Talan’s whispers right after Ryan “Hello?” 

Talan is fine and Michael groans. 

“What?” Michael calls out annoyed, like it’s a regular day and both of them are being extra annoying for no reason at all. 

“Don’t talk loud.” Talan whisper begs, “We’re sneaking.” 

“Mike it’s Facetime.” Ryan reminds him. “Look at us.” 

Michael opens his eyes, grabs his phone and holds it a foot away from his face. He has to blinks a few times before his eyes adjust to the contrast between the bright screen and the dark room. He finally sees both Talan and Ryan’s faces staring back at him. Identical pairs of eyes fixed on his face. The same lines worry themselves across both their foreheads. Michael softens a little. 

“Tal can’t sleep.” Ryan explains, “He had a-” 

“No.” Talan stops him. “Ask.” 

“Ask what?” Michael rubs his face and sits up yawning, “What’s wrong?” 

“You were sleeping.” Talan says guiltily as he catches on, “Sorry Dad.” 

“It’s okay.” Michael reassures, “Why aren’t you sleeping Tal?” 

“Nightmare.” Talan says embarrassed, “It’s cold.” 

“Get Dad to get you blankets.” Michael yawns through his words. 

“Bring some from home?” Talan asks, “Like my blankets.” 

Michael thinks of Talan’s threadbare camo comforter and the knitted acid green blanket he’s dragged around the house for the past ten years. He hates that they haven’t thought of bringing Talan more things from home sooner. 

“Yeah Baby.” Michael’s voice softens, “What else you need?”

“Clothes.” Talan requests, “My breakfast burritos. My blue pillow.” 

It’s Talan’s turn to yawn. His eyes close for a second and his head falls to rest against Ryan’s shoulder before he jerks himself awake. Ryan looks up at the phone frowning in concern and Michael mirrors his expression. 

“Ask Dad.” Talan pokes at Ryan with his heart monitor clipped finger. 

“Tal wants to talk to his dog.” Ryan says like he fully knows the request is absurd, “Hoops around?” 

“Is he okay?” Talan talks over Ryan, “He’s probably with-” 

“I’ll go get him.” Michael agrees because there isn’t much he wouldn’t do for Talan at this point. 

Michael finds Hoops sleeping in Talan’s room. He picks him up and ignores Hoops’ grunt of protest. He holds his phone up to be level with Hoops’ face and turns on Talan’s desk lamp. 

“Hey dude!” Talan says happily, “Hey Buddy!” 

Hoops wakes up instantly and wags his tail so violently his entire body shakes with him. He looks around the room frantically trying to find Talan. 

“I’m right here!” Tal encourages, “Are you being good? I miss you.” 

Hoops leans forward and licks close to Michael’s phone screen. Talan laughs and the sound of it is refreshing. Michael smiles despite being bone tired and barely awake. 

“Want to talk to Turtle?” Michael decides to offer, willing to go grab every animal in the house for a Face time chat with Talan if it’ll make him laugh again. 

“Nah.” Talan yawns and rests his head against Ryan’s shoulder again, “He won’t care.” 

Michael sits down on Talan’s bed. Talan is as disorganized and messy as he is. The floor of Talan’s room is barely visible under a layer of clothes, art supplies, sports gear and shopping bags. Talan’s basketball uniform is thrown across the foot of his bed and his school uniform is crumpled up in a ball next to his closet. There are towels hanging off the back of his door and empty cans of Pringles stacked up on his nightstand. 

The familiarity of the mess is home and Michael’s eyes close. 

He hears Ryan start to hum and even though he knows the soft sound is for Talan’s benefit Michael lets it soothe him too. Like it’s fourteen years ago and Ryan is trying to get a baby Talan to sleep on his chest in their bed. Ryan refused to put Talan down for the night alone in his crib. 

“…three weeks of recovery but the nurses is lovin me.” Ryan stops humming to rap low under his breath when he gets to a part with PG content. 

“S’he sleep?” Michael mutters not opening his eyes to look at his screen. 

“Yeah.” Ryan whispers before he starts to hum again. “Night MP.”

For the first time in a long time Michael wishes Ryan was in bed next to him. He misses the body heat he so often complains about, he misses Ryan’s head close to his chest and the smell of Ryan’s cologne, which hasn’t changed since Athens. 

“…raw flows, and that's how it goes…” Ryan starts to rap his again, his voice low and deep. 

Michael stretches out and his feet hang off the side. Talan’s comforter smells like sunscreen and Hoops is warm against his back. 

“No… No… Notorious.” Ryan’s voice picks up. 

Michael has a fleeting thought that it might be time to buy Talan something bigger than a double bed. 

*

When Michael wakes up the next morning, his phone is dead. He charges it while he drinks coffee and tries to avoid the dark green smoothie in the glass next to his Michigan mug. 

“You can’t taste the kale.” Hilary informs him from her spot at the kitchen counter, “Oliver likes it.”

“Where’s he?” Michael thumbs the screen of his phone waiting for it to come back to life. 

“Watching tv. You have a bunch of games recorded. That’s what he does.” Hilary explains almost like an apology, “He left for awhile yesterday but I don’t know if he was by himself. He goes for walks sometimes. I tried getting him to do yoga with me but-”

“He was up all night.” Michael fills in to reassure her, “It’s not you.”

Michael’s phone vibrates back to life and he stops listening to Hilary. Letting Oliver swim is the last thing he wants to do. He has no new voicemails and only a few text messages from Ryan. Even the emails about Oliver’s cancelled press tour have stopped. He goes through his calls and the last one at the top is Ryan and Talan’s call from the night before. The Facetime chat with Ryan had lasted long after he’d fallen asleep. Ryan had kept the call going even once Michael had fallen asleep. The thought of Ryan keeping watch over him as well as Talan makes Michael’s chest feel too small. 

“Yeah,” Michael drinks the last of his coffee, hoping he’s caught up with Hilary’s one-sided conversation. “I don’t know either.”

To make his sister feel better and because he really is grateful for everything she’s done Michael tries the smoothie. He can taste the kale over what he guesses is the blueberry apple combination Oliver loves and instantly feels guilty for exposing his son to Hilary’s passion for vegan juicing. 

“He wanted to swim last night.” Michael says reluctantly, “I’ll see if he wants to go today.”

Michael hasn’t swam in months, hasn’t even set foot in a pool for other reasons than to watch Oliver swim. No part of him feels like driving to the speed club, suiting up and jumping in. He doesn’t even know where his swim bag is. 

However, he’s willing to try mostly anything to get Oliver off to couch and to make Oliver feel better. As reluctant as he is to suggest swimming he guesses that under his supervision not much can go wrong. Even if Oliver had struggled the night before Michael had been there to save him. Oliver had been safe. 

Like Hilary had said, Oliver is on the couch watching a football game Michael guesses has long since aired. 

“Ols.” He calls out. 

He gets nothing. Oliver doesn’t even bother to fast forward through the commercials. 

Michael walks into the living room and positions himself between Oliver and the television. 

“Hey!” Oliver protest, “I can’t see.” 

Michael fights his temper. Oliver is testing the limits and Michael has had enough. 

“Do you want to go swim?” Michael offers to Oliver instead, “I’m going.” 

“Are other people going to be there?” Oliver pauses the football game and flips to a cartoon without looking at him. 

“We can get lanes.” Michael promises, “I know a guy.” 

“No.” Oliver dismisses, switching back to the football game. 

“Oliver.” Michael takes the remote from him and turns off the television, “Stop.” 

“Stop what? I’m doing nothing.” Oliver defends himself, “Like actually nothing.” 

“You were going swimming last night.” Michael reminds him, “You’re not going alone you’re-” 

“It was going to be empty last night.” Oliver points out, “Now there’s gonna people. I don’t want to go.” 

Ryan had taken over the Speed Club soon after they’d made the permanent move to Florida. Talan and Oliver had almost been raised there. It’s where Oliver had learned to swim. He’d swum his first race with a Speed Club cap. As much as Michael wants to credit Bob and Meadowbrooks for Oliver’s success he knows that Ryan and the Speed Club deserve the praise. 

“You don’t want to see the people at the Speed Club?” Michael asks, “People who’ve known you since you were a baby?” 

“I don’t want to be Oliver Phelps-Lochte.” Oliver says his own name in a fake booming voice like he’s announcing it over loudspeakers, “Everywhere I go people flip out. It’s fucking old.” 

Michael tries to count to ten and remind himself that Oliver is just as exhausted as he is. That this is hard on all of them and that Oliver is very tall and acts grown up but is deep down just a seventeen year old kid. 

“So the people who were there at 5am to say good morning. The people who knew your grandpa and worked with dad. You don’t want them to say good job?” 

“I don’t want to see anyone.” Oliver tries to explain, “Every time it’s bad. So yeah no.” 

“The people there Ols-” Michael tries to think of the right way to say it, “The people who made you a cake when you made the team you should be excited about seeing. That’s not an inconvenience Oliver. We didn’t raise you that way. We didn’t-” 

“Oh my god.” Oliver rolls his eyes, “That’s not-.”

“Then what Oliver?” 

“I don’t want to go.” Oliver says fed up, “Okay? I don’t want to swim. I don’t want to see anyone. I don’t want people to say good job. There’s like a whole season of football I have to watch.” 

“That’s not you Oliver.” Michael shakes his head mournfully. “You were excited. You wanted-”

“ Yeah? It wasn’t worth it. Wasted a whole-”

“What would you have done instead?” Michael asks out of patience. “Sat on the couch? Gotten a few more speeding tickets?” 

“I don’t know.” Oliver snaps, “Had fun, done shit with my friends-” 

“No one forced you ever.” Michael reminds him snapping right back, “We gave you so many outs Oliver.” 

Oliver stays silent. He keeps his eyes locked on Michael’s and refuses to look away. 

“So you say it wasn’t worth it?” Michael questions his voice more sarcastic than he had intended, “Not the winning, not the medals, not the supermodel texting you? Not the money in your bank account? Just because you don’t want to be around people?”

“I can’t go out!” Oliver’s voice wavers, “I couldn’t go see a movie with Evan. I couldn’t be at the airport. I couldn’t be at the hospital. I can’t go to the Speed Club-”

“Who else don’t you want to be around Ols?” Michael calls out, “Us? Dad an me? Talan?” 

Oliver looks at the floor and Michael knows mentioning Talan had been a mistake. 

“This can’t just be about what’s going on. This isn’t just about Tal so talk.” Michael challenges his voice kinder. “We got you help Ols if you need more just ask for it. We can go-”

“I don’t want more help.” Oliver says frustrated. 

“You’re leaving for college in a week Oliver show me you’re ready.” Michael calls out defeated, “Show me that me and Dad aren’t gonna have to go pick you up in a week because you can’t do it. This isn’t easy on anyone Oliver.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna go.” Oliver challenges. 

“That attitude is done Ols.” Michael says exasperated, “That’s the story you’re going to go with? Poor me my parents forced me to compete in the Olympics. I wanted to sit on the couch after training for three years so now I’m skipping out on college to catch up on old NFL games?” 

“Stop.” Oliver holds up a hand. 

“You’re not going to some community college Oliver, you’re going to Harvard. There’s people in your class who’ve done more than you already. What are you going to say then?” Michael challenges, not listening to his kid’s request. “Bet gold medals start looking good when you’re sitting next to some guy who’s been running his own company since he was five.”

“Five year olds don’t run companies.” Oliver rolls his eyes. 

“I’m telling you to be proud.” Michael snaps infuriated by Oliver’s sudden lack of respect. “Act proud. So when that kid next to you says he’s been building schools in Argentina every summer since he was fourteen you can say you worked hard too.” 

“I am proud.” Oliver argues, “I never said I wasn’t. I said-” 

“Act it!” Michael demands, “Show it!” 

Oliver bites his lip and Michael can tell he’s struggling with what to say. Oliver opens his mouth to talk and his voice breaks before the first word comes out. 

“What do you want Oliver?” Michael interrupts exasperated. “I don’t understand what this is about. Tell me what you want then I can help.”

“I can’t.” Oliver argues.

“Yeah you can Ols.” Michael says just as fast, wanting the answer out of his son. “And you’re going to.” 

Michael wishes he had more patience that he could be less tired and more sympathetic to Oliver’s tantrum. That he could let his son choose not to go to Harvard and stay home to watch recorded NFL games. 

“I want you to-” Oliver hesitates. 

Michael stands silent in front of Oliver waiting for him to keep talking. 

“I asked you to stay.” Oliver manages to say his voice breathless like everything in his body is fighting against the words coming out. “You left. I needed you to-” 

Michael stands gutted. Sure that Oliver’s words have just blown a hole through him. 

“Bud.” Michael can’t even reach out for him, “That’s not fair.”

“I don’t care.” Oliver says and he sounds like maybe the words hurt him worse. 

Oliver is almost as tall and just as lanky as Michael had been at his age. His hair is the same unruly mess but his eyes are the same shade of dull grey blue that Ryan’s get when he’s exhausted. After more than twenty years of living with people with blue eyes Michael’s learned to tell the difference. 

“Ols-” 

“I know.” Oliver agrees, “-I can’t-”

Oliver stops talking to take in a shaky breath and Michael tries to fill in the missing words in his son’s sentence. 

“I couldn’t take you.” Michael explains slowly, trying to think of the right words to say to calm Oliver down, “It wasn’t a choice. It had nothing to do with-”

Oliver shrugs. 

“No. You have to get that.” Michael insists, “I didn’t leave you. Dad didn’t leave you. We had no choice. It wasn’t something we wanted to do.”

“I know.” Oliver whines in a voice that makes him sound way younger than he is. 

“I’m here now.” Michael offers. He hesitates for a second before he steps forward to pull Oliver towards him. He hugs him hard and rests his chin on top of his son’s head. “Dad is too.”

Michael still feels like all the air has been knocked out of him. He wrestles with the load of guilt Oliver has just dumped on his shoulders. He tries to remind himself that it had been an impossible decision with no right outcome. 

Oliver is shaking and Michael can’t tell if he’s crying. 

“Calm down Bud.” Michael says quiet, “You’re okay.”

Oliver pulls away and wipes his face with the neck of his t-shirt. 

“I’m tired.” Oliver complains, “I didn’t sleep.” 

“You have sleeping pills.” Michael reminds him even though he’s uncomfortable with the idea of having Oliver rely on medication a week before Harvard. 

“Yeah.” Oliver agrees, “Maybe.” 

“Go back to bed.” Michael guides forgetting his plans to go swimming. 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head, “We can go swim.” 

“Not if you didn’t sleep.” Michael refuses, “You can’t use it to be okay.”

It’s advice he wishes he’d gotten and Oliver seems to appreciate it. 

“Watch the game with me?” Oliver asks. 

Michael is sure he’s failed. His mission had been to get Oliver off the couch and out of the house. Watching Oliver do nothing is unsettling. Watching Oliver let go of goals and discredit hard work is discouraging. 

Watching Oliver’s tired eyes he feels his resolve to get him out of the house dwindling. Maybe this is what Oliver needs, a few days of doing nothing to recover from everything. 

Michael sits close enough to the end of the couch to give Oliver room to stretch out. He reaches for the remote and Oliver hands it over. 

“What game?” Michael asks, propping his feet up on their coffee table next to Oliver’s phone. 

“Superbowl.” Oliver settles himself on the couch. He pushes a pillow under his head rests his feet on Michael’s lap, “Didn’t see it.” 

“Won’t ruin the end for you.” Michael says knowing full well Oliver is aware of the turnout. He reaches for a blanket on the back of the couch and drapes it over Oliver, “But your dad had to wear a Raven’s jersey for two weeks straight.” 

Oliver yawns through most of the first few minutes of play. Michael watches him drift in and out of sleep and wishes he could have convinced Oliver to go to bed. Instead, he lowers the volume before switching to another channel.

“M’watching.” Oliver mumbles, “Put it back.”

Michael obeys and keeps watching a game he’s already seen. Ryan and him had attended the Superbowl together. It had been their last trip alone together. 

“You can’t let ‘em like convert you.” Oliver speaks up while Michael fast-forwards through a commercial break. 

“Who Bud?” 

“Like I won’t be there to cheer with you, two against one, Dad and Tal and Minnesota’s gonna be everywhere.” 

Michael doesn’t want to talk about Oliver not being around. Doesn’t want to accept the fact that Oliver won’t be around for Friday night pizza or for Sunday football. He especially doesn’t want to talk about it with Oliver. 

“I’ll fly you in.” Michael promises. 

“Every night?” Oliver laughs to himself, “Like a school bus jet?” 

“You know.” Michael starts. He drags part of the blanket on his lap to cover Oliver’s legs, “I still need some credits to finish up my degree-” 

Oliver snorts. 

“I can stay with you.” Michael jokingly offers, “Get a dorm room. Go to classes. I was pretty fun at parties.”

“Do keg stands?” Oliver questions laughing at his idea, “Pledge a frat?” 

“Your dad was better at those.” Michael admits, glad Oliver had chosen not to bring up his other famous college pastime. “But he doesn’t need credits.”

“No.” Oliver shakes his head still laughing. “That’s okay.”

*

“Just one more.” The nurse tells Talan, “Then you’re free.”

As she talks, the nurse takes the plastic clip off Talan’s finger. She holds it up and smiles at him. 

“That one didn’t hurt!” She says cheerfully. 

“My dad coulda done that.” Talan looks at her wearily before rolling his eyes. “I coulda done that.”

“They might put one back on him in ortho.” She ignores Talan’s sass to talk to Ryan, “But to move him we’re okay. He’s going to keep one port in his arm but it’s just going to be taped down no more IV’s. He’s good to go!” 

After a morning of watching tubes and needles get pulled out Talan, Ryan is relieved to be done with it. He reaches over to rub Talan’s index finger where the clip left an indent in his skin.

“Really dad that one didn’t hurt.” Talan confirms.

“Yeah tough guy.” Ryan squeezes Talan’s hand before dropping it. “Killing it.” 

There are a million forms to sign and Ryan has to leave Talan’s room fill them out. He catches the eye of another parent and smiles, hoping that somehow he’s showing that there’s hope. That if kids who almost bleed out on beaches can now be halfway home other kids can too. 

He signs as fast as he can because he can’t wait to have Talan out of the place. Can’t wait for his kid to be somewhere that’s a little more normal. He caps the pen once he’s done and hands the forms back to the nurse smiling. 

Talan has his hoodie back on over his hospital gown and grip socks on his feet, which are sticking out from the blankets. 

“Ready for the big move?” The nurse asks, tucking in blankets around Talan and pulling up the railings to his bed, “They should be here soon to take you down.”

“Um yeah.” Talan says a little unconvinced, “Kinda scary I haven’t like been out there.” Talan points to the hallway beyond his room, “Just in here.” 

“You’re going to be good sweetheart.” The nurse assures. 

“Yeah.” Talan answers and the uncertainty in his voice is palpable, “Sure.” 

“There you go hun.” The nurse pulls the blankets to cover his feet, “You are all set to go. You’ll be fine you always have family here and now more people can visit you.” 

“Thanks for like taking care of me.” Talan offers. 

“You’re welcome honey.” She smiles at him, “Just don’t come back alright? Send us pictures of your first basketball game.”

“Thanks.” Ryan echoes Talan but it doesn’t feel like enough. 

He wants to say more but he’s already choking up. He coughs to hide it and turns back to Talan grinning. 

“How fast you think that bed goes?” 

*  
“Dad? If he’s going to sit you’re going to help hold him up.” The physiotherapist assistant tells Ryan. “You’re going to sit here and once he’s up let him lean on you if he needs it. ” 

“Yeah sure.” Ryan sits on Talan’s bed and waits for further instructions. “Come on Baby. Move slow.” 

“That’s my speed.” Talan grumbles. 

“That’s fine.” The nurse tells Talan, “We’re not going to move faster than you.” 

Ryan knows that this is where the real work begins. While the physiotherapist and her assistant guide Talan through exercises to keep his core strong Ryan mentally goes over his calendar for the next few months. He knows he has to cancel everything because helping Talan is more important. He’d stayed home for the first four years of Talan’s life and he doesn’t hesitate to commit himself to his son again. 

Talan leans forward to let the nurse and the physiotherapist help him sit up and swing his legs off the bed. Ryan reaches across Talan’s back to keep him upright and finds the assistant’s arm already there. 

“Alright Talan!” The physiotherapist cheers. 

Talan hangs his head forward and rubs his ribs with his good hand. The nurse pulls the sheets up behind him. 

“I’m like naked.” Talan complains even though he’s wearing a hospital gown. He pulls the bed sheet up higher on his stomach 

“We’ll get you clothes,” Ryan reassures, “I’m not gonna make you go around naked. No one needs to see all that” 

Ryan can see Tal’s collar bone jutting out against his skin and count all his ribs. He wonders if any of the clothes they’ve brought for Talan will fit. Tal’s skin feels freezing cold against him he breaks out in goose bumps. Ryan picks up one of the blankets piled at the foot of the hospital bed and wraps it around Talan’s shoulders. 

“He needs his hoodie.” Ryan tells the nurse, “And underwear it’s in the duffle, I just can’t go if I’m holding him up- ” 

“Don’t move.” Talan says alarmed, “I’ll fall over.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Ryan reassures him, “I’m just trying to get you some underwear.” 

The nurse hands Ryan the duffel bag and he thanks her. 

“Do you want boxers?” Ryan asks. 

Digging through the bag of things Devon had brought back from home. Ryan is half sure most of the things in the bag belong to Brady and not Talan. 

“This is embarrassing” Talan groans as he leans most of his body weight on Ryan. He rests his head on Ryan’s shoulder and scratches his face. 

“Don’t worry about it Baby just take your time.” Ryan takes a hoodie out of the duffle and holds it out, “Put this on you’re cold.”

“Everything hurts this isn’t fun.” Tal complains. 

“You’re doing good Talan.” The nurse encourages, helping to guide his injured arm into the sleeve. “Are you dizzy at all?” 

“No.” Talan answers. 

“You’re doing good.” Ryan echoes. 

Talan gets real clothes and closes his eyes in embarrassment when he has to rely on Ryan for help. 

“Dude it’s fine.” Ryan reassures once they’re done. He bunches up the hospital gown and puts it behind Talan. 

Having Talan sitting up on his own a few days after they’d been told he wouldn’t make it through the night is like a miracle in itself. 

Talan has a hard time balancing and keeping himself up without help. Ryan keeps an iron tight grip on him even though everyone is doing more than enough to keep him safe. 

“I don’t know if I can walk.” Talan says discouraged. His forehead is already beaded with sweat even though he hasn’t really moved. 

“We’re just practicing transferring today.” The physiotherapist says, “We’re going to go from the bed to the wheelchair. We’ll make sure you don’t fall. The walker is to help you-”

The physiotherapist pushes the walker closer to the bed first. She settles it in front of Talan’s legs while the nurse pushes the wheelchair just beside it. She talks Talan through their session before reaching for some of his MRIs. She sounds optimistic and encouraging and Ryan pays attention until he realizes that Talan isn’t. 

Talan looks horror struck. 

“What?” Talan asks when the physiotherapist stops talking. His voice sounds panicked, “Why a wheelchair?” 

Talan defaults to Ryan, turning his head to look at him so fast he looses his balance and wobbles forward. 

“Strong core Talan.” The physiotherapist insists, “Keep it-” 

“Dad.” Talan says again desperately, “Dad.” 

Talan reaches for Ryan’s shirt and falls forward again. When the physiotherapist reaches to steady him Talan recoils. 

“Talan.” The nurse says firmly, “We’re trying to help you.” 

“I ain’t using a wheelchair.” Talan’s voice cracks, “No one said.”

“Talan.” Ryan tries to calm him down. “It’s all good.” 

“No one said.” Talan repeats angrily. “My ribs hurt. Stop.” 

Talan’s last comment is directed at the assistant holding up his side. He moves his hand a few inches lower and Talan wraps his own arm across his chest protectively. 

“I don’t want to do this.” Talan decides his voice higher than normal, “Stop.” 

With Talan unwilling to participate, they rest him back down against his bed and guide his legs back to the mattress. 

Michael is usually good at getting Talan to focus and all Ryan can think of is to make Talan feel better. He desperately wants to make excuses for his son but knows that excuses won’t help anyone. 

“Dad.” Talan is more insistent, tugging on Ryan’s arm. “Daddy.” 

Talan’s last word just about kills Ryan but he knows excuses aren’t the way to go. He puts his hand over Talan’s and squeezes it. 

“Can we get a minute?” Ryan looks from Talan to the physiotherapist, “I just wanna talk to him alone. We can pick this back up in five?”

The physiotherapist assistance nods before following everyone else out of the room. He leaves the wheelchair and the walker in the room. Ryan pushes them to the side away from Talan. 

“Dad.” Talan says seriously, “Tell ‘em I can walk.”

“One thing at a time Baby.” Ryan appeases. “We talked about this.”

“No.” Talan argues, “I gotta walk. Like I gotta walk. I have to walk. I can-” 

Talan’s breath hitches and his hands ball up into fists. 

“Take it easy Tal.” Ryan walks around the room, gathering up Talan’s things and putting them back in the tiny cupboard next to the window, “You’re doing good.” 

“I’m doing nothing.” Talan breathes out, his tone accusing. “Don’t try-” 

Ryan stuffs the duffel back into the small cupboard and heads back to Talan. He stands besides the bed, one of his hands resting on Talan’s leg. 

“Nah.” Ryan corrects, “You’re gonna stand up. You’re gonna go from-” 

“Bed to the wheelchair.” Talan says his voice flat, “Nowhere cause I can’t push myself around.” 

“Tal.” Ryan tries to sound as serious as he can, to get Talan to really listen “You’re doing so good.” What Ryan chooses not to add is how five days ago Talan living through the night had been against the odds. 

“No.” Talan shakes his head, “I’m doing nothing. I’m stuck.” 

“You got hurt bad.” Ryan reminds him, “S’gonna take a little bit before we got you back to normal.”

“Um no.” Talan looks at Ryan skeptically, “I want to walk.” 

“You’re gonna walk.” Ryan cuts off. 

Talan lets out a shaky breath and hides his face. 

“I wanna walk.” Talan cries, “I wanna be home. I wanna see Hoops.” 

“Nah dude.” Ryan sits down close to him on the bed. He knocks Talan’s hands away, grabs his chin and forces his son to look at him. 

“You’re gonna walk but not today. You’re gonna go home. I’ll get ‘em to let Hoops in.” Ryan stares at Talan hoping to emphasize his words, “I promise you you’re gonna walk okay? Promise.” 

Talan’s chin quivers but he nods against Ryan’s hands. Ryan lets go of his chin and hugs him close. It’s easier to hold Talan now that all the wires are gone. 

“You’re gonna walk Tal.” Ryan brushes hair off Tal’s face, “Today’s the first day.” 

Ryan waits for Talan to talk. 

Tears still silently run down his face and Ryan wipes them away with his fingers. The gratitude he feels about having Talan back is so overwhelming that for a second he has trouble breathing. 

Ryan can’t remember ever sharing moments like this with his father. His only memories of injuries and hospitals include his father angrily telling him that he’d messed up, that he didn’t think, that made dumb choices. 

He knows though that his dad had never gotten this close to losing him. 

“So today you’re in a wheelchair and I gotta push you around.” Ryan says it as gently as he can talking to give Talan time to calm down, “We make it work yeah? Dad an me are gonna make sure you have the best people. You’re gonna work your ass off starting today and I’m gonna be there everyday.”

“Ok yeah.” Talan nods again. 

“Don’t feel sorry for yourself.” Ryan warns, “Just work hard yeah? Like the guy said you’re gonna be standing soon. Then maybe we can take you home. Ready for home?”

“Yeah.” Talan agrees. 

“You don’t quit I don’t quit.” Ryan repeats his words from the beach, “That’s a deal.” 

“Deal.” Talan repeats. 

“Stop crying.” Ryan wipes Talan’s face one last time, “Ain’t that bad.” 

“Ain’t that bad.” Talan says back at him like saying the words will make it all real. 

“Yeah Baby. You can do it. Want them to come back in?” Ryan asks before he wheels the walker and the wheelchair back to their original positions. “Figure out how to use these things?” 

“That’s baller.” Tal rolls his eyes at the walker. “Can we put rims on it?” 

“Dude.” Ryan grins, “You know I will.” 

True to his promise Talan works hard. After the physiotherapist leaves Talan is still siting in the wheelchair. Ryan pushes him around the floor to give them both a change of scenery. They stop in front of a window and Ryan sits in a chair beside Talan. He checks his phone and sees messages from Michael. 

“Dad’s on his way.” He tells Talan, “He’s gonna pick up dinner what do you want?”

“A milkshake.” Talan answers, his head tipped towards the sunlight pouring through the window. “Like two milkshakes.”

“What else?” Ryan prompts.

Ryan watches Talan flex his feet against the floor like he’s testing them to make sure they work. 

“Your feet work Tal stop.” 

Talan’s under strict instructions to not bear weight on either of his legs and watching him makes Ryan cringe.

“Things are still healing.” Ryan reminds him, “You can’t just-” 

“Grilled cheese.” Talan interrupts, before putting his feet back on the footplates “With like two milkshakes.” 

“Okay.” Ryan stares at Talan’s feet for a second to make sure Talan’s stopped trying to put weight on them. “Thank you.” 

Ryan starts to understand how his father had felt. 

*

Michael walks into the hospital laden with bags. He’s carrying a backpack full of clothes for Talan and Ryan, a tote bag with Talan’s blankets and pillows as well as a paper bag containing dinner for everyone. 

He automatically makes his way to the ICU and buzzes in only for the nurse in charge to remind him that Talan’s been moved. Orthopedics is clear across the hospital and he considers just moving to car to a more convenient spot.

Oliver had stayed home and Michael can’t pretend his decision doesn’t bother him. Despite their talk Oliver had been back in front of the television watching baseball games of teams they didn’t care about. 

Hilary had tried to get him to pack and Oliver had pretended to not hear her. 

Michael has to ask the volunteer at reception for the new number of Talan’s room because his hands are too full to check his phone. 

When he walks into Talan’s room he finds his son sitting in a chair instead of being in bed. The tray table is pulled up close to him and his sketchpad is open. A very fluffy Shih Tzu is sprawled out on Talan’s lap.

“Hey! I’m wearing pants. It’s like a party.” Talan calls out to Michael. 

Michael drops the majority of his bags by Talan’s bed, leaving them in a pile on the floor. He keeps the food in his hands.

“You look good Baby.” Michael says in relief. “Feel better?”

Seeing Talan dressed in normal clothes, sitting in a chair and drawing awkwardly with his right hand is a welcome sign of normal. Michael kisses the top of his son’s head and sets the bag of food next to Talan’s sketchpad. 

“Yeah.” Talan answers, his hand leaving the pencil to go pet the dog, “They gave me a dog nurse.” 

“Therapy dog.” Ryan corrects. 

Ryan is sitting in a wheelchair with his feet propped up on Talan’s bed. He’s drawing on the back of the week’s food menu. 

“Pretty sure she’s a medical professional.” Talan says the last two words slowly, “She has like an ID. Her name’s Minnie, like the mouse.” 

“They got a program.” Ryan explains to Michael. 

Ryan Takes his feet off the bed and crumpling up his drawing before throwing it in the garbage bin by the door of Talan’s room. He gets up and the wheelchair moves a few inches back. 

“He had a hard time after lunch being here.” Ryan says his voice quieter, “He got her instead of Ativan. S’helping him, he mellowed out a ton. ” 

Without needing a report of the day Michael knows that Ryan’s had a lot to do with the change in Talan. He guesses that Ryan hasn’t let anyone take over since he’d gotten to the hospital the previous day. 

“Hey.” Michael walks over to Ryan and kisses him on the mouth. “Thanks.”

“Yeah?” Ryan questions when they break apart, “For what?” 

“That.” Michael points to Talan, who is deep in conversation with the therapy dog. 

“He had a good day.” Ryan shrugs off, “Ols here? He ain’t answering my texts.”

Ryan looks beyond Michael at the door like he expects Oliver to walk through it. 

“No.” Michael breaks the news, “Some of his friends had a going away party he wanted to go. He’s packing-” 

Michael doesn’t know why he lies. Why he can’t just tell Ryan the truth. That Oliver wouldn’t willingly leave the house, that he’d become surgically attached to their couch and was still more than angry about what had happened in Costa Rica

“We thought he’d come.” Ryan says, “Tal wants to-” 

“We can call him later.” Michael cuts Ryan off before shifting his eyes towards Talan to make sure he hadn’t been listening, “He’ll come by before we leave.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees cautiously, “If Baby’s still this good Kristin can take over while we go. He’ll be okay.” 

Michael kisses Ryan again. Ryan’s stubble rubs against his face and Michael knows he hasn’t left the hospital. He kisses him harder.

“Did I just get a private room so you guys could make out?” Talan calls out, “Gross.”

“His pain meds kicked in.” Ryan explains pulling away but resting his face close to Michael’s “He’s terrible.” 

Talan stares at them disgusted, one of his hands still petting the dog on his lap. Between the staples running just over the neckline of his t-shirt, the healing bruises on his face and the stitches on his forehead he looks like some kind of cartoon villain. 

“How was your day Tal?” Michael asks. 

Being close to Ryan feels good. Michael slides his hand across Ryan’s back bringing it to rest on Ryan’s shoulder, his thumb slowly stroking the side of Ryan’s neck. 

“He got himself out of bed and into the wheelchair.” Ryan says proudly, “Then into the chair. We went for a walk.” 

Michael squeezes Ryan’s shoulder. 

“You should give me a medal.” Talan laughs, “I almost fell but Dad got me. I got this bracelet though.” Talan frowns as he holds up his wrist where a bright yellow fall risk bracelet hangs. 

“We got busy.” Ryan fills in. 

“Dad’s gonna put rims on my old man ride.” Talan laughs to himself, “So I can pick up more girls.” 

“I told him we’d go through the maternity ward.” Ryan jokes, “Pick up chicks.” 

“That’s terrible.” Michael shakes his head at both of them.  
“He did good.” Ryan says to Michael, “Rough start but he got we gotta do this one step on time.” 

Michael wishes he’d had as much success with Oliver but doesn’t admit to it. His mom and Bob had gotten to their house as he’d been getting ready to leave and Michael hopes they’d have better luck getting Oliver off the couch and packing up for Harvard. 

“You did good.” Michael offers to Ryan as a peace offering, “I get-” 

“Ols answering your texts?” Ryan asks concerned. 

“No.” Michael answers truthfully. 

“If I was at a party I wouldn’t either.” Ryan excuses, “We’ll call him later. Get this guy settled first.”

Ryan yawns. 

“I got a nurse to stay with him at night so he doesn’t have to wait if he needs help or he’s in pain. Charlie knows her. So we can go back to the hotel?” Michael tries, “Get some sleep?”

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees for once, “Tired.” 

“What d’you get me for dinner?” Talan asks loudly looking at the bags of food mildly interested. “What’s Minnie gonna eat?” 

“I think we gotta give her back.” Ryan breaks the news, “Her owner’s gonna be back soon.” 

“I guess.” Talan reluctantly agrees, “She worked hard.” 

Michael watches the dog yawn as Talan scratches her ear and doubts whatever she’s doing can qualify as hard work. He’s glad though that the dog’s managed to keep Talan calm. 

“Bruce and Caleb have a therapy dog.” Michael remembers, “Maybe they can let you have-” 

“Woah.” Talan holds up his hands and Minnie’s head snaps up. She paws at Talan’s hand, “You’re gonna fire Minnie?” 

“Painkillers.” Ryan mouths to Michael. 

Talan hands Minnie back without a problem after a promise that he’d get her back after his physio appointment the next day. Once she’s out of the room, Michael starts to take out their dinner. 

“Are you staying in the chair or getting in bed to eat?” He asks Talan who’s carefully rubbing hand sanitizer on his hands.  
“I can sit.” Talan decides. “Too many crumbs if I eat in bed.” 

Talan’s sudden concern for cleanliness is hilarious given that their housekeeper had once found an entire bagel stashed in his sheets when she’d gone to change the bedding. 

“We can eat together.” Talan offers pushing his sketchpad off the tray table so it falls to the floor with a thud. “D’you get food for Dad? He won’t leave me to go eat.”

“I got food for everyone.” Michael explains, “Here Ry. That’s us.” 

He hands over one of the bags to Ryan who’s settled himself in Talan’s wheelchair. Ryan reaches to pull the other chair close to the small tray table. 

“What d’you get me?” Talan asks already tearing open the plastic knife and fork package open with his teeth. 

“Don’t use your teeth.” Ryan groans. 

“Can’t use my arm.” Talan retorts. 

“Then ask for help yeah?” Ryan points out already reaching to take the package out of Talan’s mouth. 

“What d’you get me?” Talan asks Michael again. 

“Mac n cheese, grilled cheese and a milkshake with extra oreos. I think they put half a bag in it. Broccoli, it’s the only vegetable they had.” Michael explains holding up each container in turn. 

“You making me bulk up?” Talan questions but reaches for the milkshake anyways. 

Talan manages to take one sip of the milkshake before Ryan grabs it away. 

“Eat real food.” Ryan orders, “Then you get it back.” 

Michael eats a forkful of pasta and watches Ryan open the grilled cheese container and the broccoli. He spoons some broccoli in the lid of the container and reaches for the mac and cheese. He opens it and sets it beside the rest. 

“I ain’t kidding.” Ryan assures Talan, “You wanna get better you gotta eat.” 

Talan rolls his eyes but spears a piece of broccoli with his fork and chews it while staring at Ryan. He swallows and holds out his hand for his drink.

“Eat more.” Ryan conditions still holding the milkshake hostage. 

“You’re really funny today.” Talan narrows his eyes at him. “Haha.” 

“Ry.” Michael takes the milkshake and puts it back closer to Talan, “Eat. He’s good. That thing has more calories than everything else.” 

“Yeah Dad. Eat. I’m good.” Talan mimics. He reaches for his milkshake before Ryan can stop him and takes a triumphant sip. 

It’s their first meal together since the night of Ryan’s birthday. Talan eats most of the food Ryan had set out in front of him, laughs at odd moments and repeats things randomly. 

Oliver’s absence is palpable and Michael thinks with a pang that this is how it’s going to be from now on. Oliver won’t be around for dinner anymore, won’t be coming home every night that he won’t even be coming home every weekend. 

“Hey.” Ryan squeezes his arm while Talan is busy taking the crust off the remaining half of his grilled cheese, “He’s good MP don’t get sad.” 

Ryan smiles at him and his eyes crinkle but they’re definitely more grey than blue and exhaustion has settled dark bruises under them. Michael doesn’t explain to him that he’d been thinking of Oliver leaving.

“I’m gonna make it.” Talan says matter-of-fact looking at both of them; half his milkshake is already gone. “Don’t cry.” 

When Talan stops answering their questions and starts picking at his food rather than eating it they know he’s done. 

“Are you hurting Tal?” Michael asks, “One to ten?

Tal closes his eyes. 

“Do you want to get back in bed?” Ryan offers. “I’ll call the nurse.” 

Ryan moves the table away from Talan’s chair before he puts Tal’s walker back in front of his chair. 

“I don’t wanna move.” Tal complains, “Too much.” 

“Don’t wanna move ‘cause you hurt or ‘cause you’re tired?” Michael enquires. 

“Tired.” Talan yawns. “S’hard.”

“It’s really close Talan.” Ryan reminds him, “We’re gonna help you.” 

With the help of the nurse they move Talan back in bed. Michael is surprised at how little Talan weighs. The amount of weight he’s lost since the accident is alarming. With his arm raised to hold onto Ryan Talan’s side and his stomach are bare. Michael can clearly make out more bones jutting out of his skin than he’d ever been able to see on Oliver. 

They get him pajama bottoms and Michael carefully helps him put on a t-shirt. He tries hard not to stare at the staples, the burn marks, the puncture wound and the bruising colouring Talan’s chest. 

“Yeah.” Talan looks down at himself, “Looks crazy.” 

“It’ll heal up.” Michael decides, “Next year you won’t even be able to tell.” 

“Want your turtle?” Ryan asks holding up Jimmy, the stuffed turtle Talan’s been carrying around since Michael had won it for him at a state fair. 

“Um yeah.” Talan answers clearly embarrassed, “I like him in here with me.” 

Talan tucks Jimmy under his right arm, cushioning him between his brace and his chest. He yawns, pulls the blanket up and closes his eyes. 

Ryan tidies the room, pushing flower vases towards the window and smoothing his hand against the get-well poster boards they were finally allowed to hang up. He picks up things, considers them before putting them back down in the same spot. Even without talking to him Michael would have known just how tired Ryan is. 

“Pal.” Michael calls out while Ryan is busy putting Talan’s clothes away, “You’re gonna be okay to sleep here without us for a bit? I’m gonna drive Dad back to the hotel so he can sleep too.” 

“S’ok.” Talan nods, “Go.” 

“Sure?”

“I sleep without you all the time.” Talan reminds him, “So many times.” 

“I got you your own nurse okay? She’s going to stay with you. You hurt tell okay?” Michael takes the camo print comforter from the bag and drapes it over Talan. “You have your button.” 

Talan grabs onto the familiar blanket and brings it up closer to his face. He rubs the corner of it against his cheek.

“I got your pillow too.” Michael holds one up, “And the green blanket.”  
“I’ll switch out your pillows.” Ryan grabs them from Michael and walks up to the head of Talan’s bed, “Lean forward Baby.” 

Michael watches Talan lean forward until he’s resting against Ryan’s side. He lets Ryan support most of his body weight. 

“Try that.” Ryan requests before he helps Talan lean against the new pillows, “Better?” 

“Yeah. Dad go sleep. I’m just gonna sleep.” Talan mumbles, his face half hidden under his comforter. 

“We’re gonna leave for a little bit.” Michael reminds him, petting Talan’s hair as he talks. “We’ll bring you breakfast tomorrow.”

“Stay ‘till I’m sleep.” Talan requests from underneath his blanket. 

“Yeah.” Ryan yawns before he leans his head on Michael’s shoulder, “Got it.”

They both watch Talan pull the blanket further over his head and the room falls silent. 

“M’so tired.” Talan says his voice getting softer and softer. “Just sleep...” 

“Okay.” Michael eases. He takes the neon green blanket and pulls it over the camo print comforter. 

Michael turns away from Talan to brush his lip against Ryan’s forehead. Ryan’s eyes are closed and he’s mostly dead weight against him but Talan is awake slowly petting the stuffed turtle’s shell with the tips of his fingers. 

Michael doesn’t know how else to convince Talan to fall asleep. Ryan’s breathing is slow and even against his shoulder and Michael knows that he’s definitely sleeping. Still Talan fights sleep. He slowly blinks at Michael, his fingers stroking the stuffed turtle. 

“You’re so tired.” Michael keeps his voice whisper quiet. “I’m here. It’s okay. Just sleep Pal.”

Talan nods, let’s go of his turtle and reaches towards Michael. For a moment Michael feels horribly guilty that they’re leaving him for the night. He has to remind himself that Talan is fifteen and not five.

“I’ll get you home when we get back.” Michael whispers to Tal again, “Promise.”

Michael takes Talan’s hand and starts to hum the same song he’d heard Ryan hum the night before.. 

“… m’getting high getting head on the beach.” Talan sleepily raps along to Michael’s humming. 

Ryan laughs against Michael’s shoulder. 

“We should have learned lullabies.” Michael complains. 

“Nah.” Ryan shakes his head, “Lame.” 

Once Talan is sleeping and the private nurse they’ve hired has set up camp in his room Michael convinces Ryan to leave. 

Ryan sleeps on the way to the hotel and drowsily follows Michael out of the car and into the building. Michael holds his hand until they’re in their room. 

“M’gonna shower.” Ryan says through a yawn, “If I don’t come out in ten come make sure I ain’t drowned.” 

“I can come with you.” Michael risks, “Lifeguard.” 

Ryan considers his offer, standing half naked leaning against the bathroom door. He chews his lip and yawns again before he grins at Michael. 

“Hired.” Ryan winks. 

They’re kissing before the water is turned on. Michael has Ryan pressed against the glass wall of the shower while the water running over them is still cold. He aches to feel Ryan’s skin against his own. To feel his warmth against the cold water and forget Oliver isn’t answering his phone and Talan can’t walk. 

Ryan seems just as desperate. Stretching out his arm and pushing his hips up against Michael, he kisses him hard and long until they’re both out of breath and the water running is uncomfortably hot. It stings Michael’s back but Michael doesn’t bother reaching to change the temperature. 

Michael doesn’t know what this is. Doesn’t know if it’s reconciliation or if it’s just easy comfort. Like when they’d been way younger and sleeping together had been easier than actually talking. They’d gone almost ten years without having a serious conversation about their future and it had almost broken them apart. 

Ryan bites his lip and Michael is forced back to reality. He can’t remember when he’d been able to think about other things while kissing Ryan. Before, kissing Ryan had been all consuming and almost overwhelming. He’d never been able to think of anything but Ryan and Ryan’s hands and Ryan’s lips and Ryan’s tongue. 

Ryan’s taking charge and Michael lets him. He lets Ryan grab him around the shoulders to turn him around and press him against the steamed up doors. Away from the stream of hot water Michael’s skin breaks out in goosebumps and Ryan’s hand smoothes across his back and his arms to warm him up. 

“I gotta-” Ryan starts but doesn’t finish. 

Instead Ryan chooses to kiss Michael’s shoulders and neck and when Michael doesn’t protest the sentence Ryan had started but never finished Ryan slips a finger in him. 

It’s not how they usually do things but it’s happened before. When Ryan decides to top Michael usually lets him. Tonight he’s too desperate to feel close to his husband to care about who’s doing what. 

Really he thinks they should do this more often because Ryan definitely knows how to get him off. Before he even starts fucking him, his fingers have Michael pushing back against him and pounding his fist on the shower wall. 

Ryan adds another finger and Michael rocks back on his heels. He momentarily looses his balance before Ryan grabs him around the waist and steadies him against his chest. 

“Yeah Mike.” Ryan whispers, his voice deep and raspy, “Fuck I want you.” 

Ryan is probably trying to forget the same things but Michael doesn’t let himself dwell on it. He lets his head fall back against Ryan’s shoulder and reaches to pull his mouth to his. 

“Good?” Ryan pulls away to ask, like they’re twenty and in Ryan’s bedroom in Gainesville the first time they’d done this and Ryan had been so nervous he’d gone through three condoms before actually managing to get one on his dick. 

Michael nods because he’s not sure he can talk. His entire body is on fire even though the water has cooled down to a comfortable temperature. He moans when Ryan pulls his fingers out of him. 

“Shh.” Ryan kisses his shoulder and Michael feels him smile against his skin.

Ryan pushes in and they both groan. Ryan holds on tighter to Michael’s waist and slides all the way in before holding still. 

“Shit.” Ryan breathes out, his voice shaking. 

Michael’s back is pressed up against Ryan’s chest and Ryan’s legs are close to his own. Ryan’s hands run languidly along his body as he fucks him and this Michael thinks is what he needed. To feel Ryan close to him, to feel his heart beat through his chest, to feel his warmth. 

Ryan shifts his hips until his strokes make Michael cry out and stumble forward. He’s unrelentless after that. Hitting the same spot over and over again wrapping a hand over Michael’s dick and stroking fast. 

Michael comes against the shower wall and his hips twitch when Ryan keeps stroking him even after his orgasm is over when every nerve ending in his body feels like it’s shooting off electric sparks. 

“Stop.” He asks Ryan, closing one hand over his wrist to stop him from moving. “I can’t.” 

Ryan pushes in and out of him a few more times before pulling out. Turning around Michael reaches for him, twisting his wrist around to make the grip better for Ryan he jacks him off quickly and just like that he’s in control again. 

“Fuck.” Ryan moans in complaint when Michael slows down for a second, “No. Shit.” 

Michael kisses him and moves his hand faster. Ryan’s toes curls against the white ceramic tile of the shower floor and he pulls away to yell out. 

“Shh.” It’s Michael’s turn to shush him, he feels Ryan’s cum splatter across his abs and cover his fist. “Yeah Ry.” 

Michael kisses him again. Kisses him so hard that their teeth clack together before they can figure out how to fit together. Ryan is half limp against him and Michael smiles. Regardless of everything this is the best sex they’ve had in almost half a year. 

“Goddamn.” Ryan says when he pulls away, “I miss you.” 

Michael wants to believe him. 

* 

Ryan gets in bed naked. He slides under the covers and props himself up next to Michael against the headboard. He rests against Michael’s chest and peers down at the paperwork Michael is holding. 

“For Tal.” Michael explains, “While we’re at Harvard. We have to choose who’s responsible for him.”

“Kristin.” Ryan answers without hesitating, “Dev and Charlie.”

“I was thinking Hilary.” Michael admits, “She’s been taking care of Ols-” 

“Yeah right.” Ryan snickers, “So Tal gets another infections and she tells the doctors to hold up on meds ‘till her yoga group can come chant some hippy love song over him? Nah.” 

It’s a fair blow. One that would usually make Michael laugh but tonight it doesn’t. 

“I just like trust Kristin.” Ryan yawns, explaining himself “She’s a mom.” 

Ryan watches Michael and knows his husband doesn’t agree with his choice. Ryan refuses to back down. 

“Kristin ain’t gonna let him slack.” Ryan explains his choice, “She won’t let him not take his pain meds, she won’t let him stay awake. She’s a hardass.” 

“He’d want Charlie.” Michael offers. 

“Yeah he would.” Ryan agrees, “But she can’t I asked already.” 

Ryan expects Michael to argue it more and he’s ready to fight back because he knows Talan will do better with Kristin than with Hilary. He trusts Kristin more hands down. 

“Okay.” Michael concedes, “You like got him so fine. We just have to sign” 

Ryan has a hard time staying awake. He holds the pen and signs where Michael points, his signature sloppy and lopsided from only being half sitting and half awake. When he’s signed on the last page, he drops the pen and settles down on his pillow. 

He waits for Michael to lie down beside him before he nestles in close, moving his head to Michael’s pillow. He curls his legs over Michael’s and rests his forehead against Michael’s shoulder. 

“Ols’ scared you won’t go.” Michael reveals and his voice makes his chest vibrate under Ryan’s hands. 

“I said I’d get him to college when he was like a day old.” Ryan reminds Michael, “I’m going. I promised.” 

“Tell him that?” Michael urges, “He needs you Ry, you like checked out on him.” 

The accusation hurts but Ryan knows it’s a fair one. Now that he has time to think about someone other than Talan he realizes that he’s let Oliver fall to the wayside, that he’s told himself Oliver was fine because other people were taking care of him. He’s never entirely trusted other people to take care of his kids. 

“S’he okay?” Ryan asks. 

Michael hesitates and Ryan knows he’s being lied to. 

“He’ll be fine.” Michael reassures, speaking a second too late to be convincing. “It’s Oliver.” 

Ryan kisses Michael’s shoulder and wraps his arms tighter around him. Michael moves to settle against him. After more than a week of sleeping alone for a few hours and sleeping in hospital chairs, resting against Michael is good.

*

Oliver eventually runs out of games to watch. 

His grandparents’ nagging is harder to ignore than his dad’s. His grandma’s constant worry coupled with his grandfather’s endless speeches pushes Oliver to get off the couch just to make them stop talking. 

Oliver grabs his swim bag and pulls out of the driveway and towards the gate feeling victorious that he hasn’t been followed. As he drives along the ocean, taking the long way to the speed club he tries to forget his last disastrous attempt at swimming. He drives fast to push it out of his mind. He’d been tired and angry. He’d been upset about Talan. 

Swimming is what he’s always done to feel better. 

At the Speed Club he walks up to his broken locker and stares too long at Evan’s locker, which is empty and no longer has a lock. 

He swims in a lane next to Brady who has the best breaststroke in the entire place but who’s too busy talking about Talan to actually swim. 

“I went yesterday.” He tells Oliver while he’s standing on the block tugging his swim cap over his curls. “With my Dad and he’s good you know? We played Spades and we snuck out in his wheelchair-” 

Brady talks happily and Oliver is annoyed. He glances around but it’s Saturday afternoon and every other lane is taken by the senior citizen aqua fit class. Brady is swimming to make up for the practice he’d missed the day before and Oliver is swimming because Bob said it would make him feel better. 

“Are you going tomorrow or when are you leaving? Grandma said we should like have a big family dinner but Tal won’t be there so maybe we need to go up to the hospital maybe grandma can bring food there? Talan said you should go see him. He has a new phone you can call. Same number.”

Oliver knows Talan has a new phone because he has more than a hundred messages from him. Apparently no one is bothering to make sure Talan isn’t using his new phone to harass other people. 

“If he gets to come home while you’re at Harvard we’re gonna have him stay with us.” Brady says happy. 

Oliver dives in and everything fades away. He kicks underwater for the entirety of his first lap and only comes up for air when his lungs feel like they’re going to explode. His head breaks the surface and no one’s yelling to remind him of his set, of his pace, of his stroke counts. 

Oliver looks sideways and sees Brady flying ahead of him. There’s no way he’s giving his cousin the satisfaction of beating him so he goes faster. They’re head to head for another few laps before Brady stops instead of turning. 

Oliver stops a few strokes later and turns around to see his cousin grinning at him. He swims back towards him and takes his goggles off.

“Yo imagine being on the same relay team.” Brady’s smile is easy and confident, there’s no doubt he’ll make the national team in a few years. “That be so cool. Grandma would cry.”

Brady blurs the lines between a cousin and a sibling. They’ve grown up all together. Talan considers Brady his best friend and his brother and it sometimes stings. 

“Talan’s gonna come swim for rehab.” Brady keeps talking, forgetting he’s suppose to swim. “Cause he can’t like walk yet his hips aren’t ready to like hold all his weight like he might be able to stand soon but so he’s gonna swim to get stronger and I’m gonna make sure he doesn’t drown. Maybe he can make the relay team too.” 

Brady laughs like it’s a joke and Oliver feels himself break out into goose bumps. 

“BRAYDEN LOCHTE.” Devon yells from the pool deck, “THERE’S NO TALKING BREAKS.” 

“Shit.” Brady puts his goggles back on. “Later.” 

Brady kicks off the wall and Oliver pulls himself out of the pool. He can’t do it anymore. 

In the change room he cleans out his locker. Takes all the broken goggles, stretched out jammers, news paper clippings, food wrappers, towels and swim caps out and shoves them in his duffle. 

When the locker is empty he pulls the lock out and dumps it on top of the rest of his stuff. He stands back and stares at it. 

He can’t bring himself to leave his locker empty. Can’t bring himself to send that message to his dads and every other kid swimming at the Speed Club. Digging back through the bag he takes out his lock, shoves the entire duffel in the locker and latches it shut. 

At home, he takes out the plastic bins Ryan and him had bought the week before training camp and starts to pack. 

*

Oliver drives back to Miami with his grandparents two days before he’s meant to leave for Harvard. His things are only half packed and his room is a disaster. The task is overwhelming and Oliver is lost. 

“Dad usually packs for me.” He admits to Debbie when she comes to tell him to get ready to leave. He’s ashamed of the state of his room. 

“Ryan will help.” Debbie reassures, “They’re driving you back tonight. We’re staying in Miami with Talan.” 

“Talan needs him.” Oliver shrugs, “I’ll just do it tomorrow.” 

“No.” Debbie disagrees with a shake of her head, “You need him too.” 

Oliver isn’t convinced Ryan will willingly leave Talan. He refuses to get his hopes up. He tells himself that it doesn’t matter, that he doesn’t need Ryan at Harvard that he’ll be fine with just Michael. 

To get his mind off packing, leaving and having to explain to Talan why he hasn’t been back to visit him Oliver chooses to talk to Kasey. She’s in London for a photo shoot and it’s crazy late for her but she stays awake and talks. 

They get stuck in traffic and by the time they make it to the hospital his dads are in a meeting. The floor Talan is on is normal. There are people walking around and no one has to buzz you in. People are wearing pajamas or normal clothes and don’t look as sick. A few patients wave at him but no one asks for a picture or an autograph. Oliver waves back at them. 

Oliver walks into Talan’s room guiltily. He hasn’t seen Talan in almost a week, has refused to come back to the hospital to see him and hasn’t answered any of his text messages. 

“Hey.” He waves.

Talan is holding a small basketball and aiming for a tiny basketball net suctioned to the wall in front of his bed. 

“Hey.” Talan answers, “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” Oliver reassures, ‘I’m good.” 

“Still scared of me?” Talan asks his tone uncharacteristically bitter. 

Oliver knows he’s being called out but can’t bring himself to apologize. He watches Talan throw the ball. It soars to just a foot off the end of Talan’s bed and falls to the floor. 

“Fuck.” Talan swears.

“Try again.” Oliver grabs the ball and tosses it back to Talan, “Throw harder.” 

“Yeah I can’t.” Talan answers back, “I don’t got like… I ain’t steady enough to-” 

“That’s a dumb excuse.” Oliver writes it off, “Your arm’s fine, try again.” 

“I’ll try you.” Talan says annoyed, spinning the tiny basketball on one of his fingers. 

“How?” Oliver swipes at the basketball and knocks it off Talan’s finger. “I move three feet you can’t get me.” 

“You’re an asshole.” Talan mutters but he throws the basketball again. 

The basketball makes it a little further than before but doesn’t reach the net. 

“Try again.” Oliver says retrieving the basketball one more time. 

“Move it closer it’s too far.” Talan complains. “I’m tired.”

“No, then it’s too easy.” Oliver passes the ball to Talan, “Go again.” 

“That’s what Dad said.” Talan groans, abandoning the basketball, “Do you have snacks?” 

“Got candy.” Oliver pulls the four-day-old half-empty bag of sour patch kids from his pocket, “Can you eat ‘em?” 

“Yeah.” Talan says without hesitation, “Sure. Share.” 

Oliver throws the bag on the bed and grabs the chair that’s closest to the bed. He props his feet up beside his brother. He feels his phone vibrate and pulls it out to a new text from Kasey. 

“Whossit?” Talan asks through a mouthful of candy. 

“Yeah no one.” Oliver shrugs off. 

“Come on.” Talan insists. 

“Kasey White.” Oliver admits with a grin. 

“Show me.” Talan asks, “She send you more pics?” 

“No.” Oliver lies, “But she asked about you.” 

“Yeah no.” Talan calls him out, “She didn’t.” 

“She did.” Oliver insists, scrolling back up and holding out his phone to Talan, “Read.” 

“She asked a lot.” Talan points out, pushing his glasses up over his head to read the screen without them, “You should give her my number.” 

“No.” Oliver refuses before taking his phone back laughing.

“She clearly cares about me.” Talan points out, “She called me Baby.” 

“Grandma calls you Baby.” 

“Grandma loves me.” 

“You got the chick from South Dakota.” Oliver reminds him, “Call her.” 

“Woah yeah.” Talan says shocked like he’d forgotten, “We were suppose to meet up. She’s prob pissed.” 

“Call her.” Oliver offers. 

“I don’t got that phone.” Talan points out like it’s obvious, “Dead on the beach or whatever. Can’t remember that whole day. Can’t remember her number.” 

The unfairness of it is hard to accept. It isn’t fair that Talan gets to not remember the beach, the blood and the rocks when Oliver can’t close his eyes without seeing it play out over and over again. 

“Wish I didn’t remember.” Oliver admits. 

“You can walk.” Talan reminds him and anger creeps into his voice, “You ain’t stuck-”

“You can walk.” Oliver interrupts. He steals a sour patch kid and chews it. “You just can’t yet ‘cause you had surgery.” 

“How d’you know?” Talan questions with the same anger, “Dads talk when they think I’m sleeping. I heard ‘em talk ‘bout how they’re gonna tell me I can’t play basketball and I can’t like go up stairs and where’s my room gonna be and who’s gonna take you to Harvard ‘cause I’m stuck here and-” 

“Talan.” Oliver stops him. 

“Nah.” Talan snaps, “I can’t say this shit to no one. I say it to the psych he’s gonna put me on more meds and Dad’s gonna hate it. I say it to Dad and he won’t go to Harvard with you. I gotta pretend it’s okay-” 

“Don’t.” Oliver says. “Fuck.” 

“You I can talk to.” Talan insists.

“And put all that shit on me nah.” Oliver shakes his head, “I gotta know you’re depressed and you want dad to stay and you’re blaming it on me?” 

Talan goes quiet and Oliver refuses to look at him. Oliver tries to cool down, to swallow his anger and to be supportive. The same white-hot pain in his chest that had made him yell at Michael a few nights before is blazing once again. 

“You knew you weren’t suppose to go. You knew that wave was too big.” Oliver accuses raising his voice, “You almost died and you don’t remember. I fucking can’t forget” 

Talan looks down and bites his lip. For a second Oliver thinks his younger brother might start to cry. 

“I thought it be cool to make it.” Talan admits, “Like I’d be good.”

“You weren’t.” Oliver snaps, “Now everything’s just-” 

Oliver goes quiet because he can’t even think of how to tell Talan what’s really going on. He can’t start talking about the fights their parents have had. Can’t think to let Talan in on the arguments about Harvard and the horror that had been the last few hours in Costa Rica. He doesn’t know how to tell Talan how horrible it had been to watch him yell out and hit their hands away because he wanted Ryan. 

“You can’t even come to Harvard.” Oliver chooses to say instead because that might be what hurts the most.

“Yeah.” Talan stares at his hands, his voice is small and quiet. “I can’t. I tried but like-they won’t let me walk.” 

“I’m pissed.” Oliver admits, “I don’t wanna go.” 

“Dude you gotta go.” Talan urges, “It’s Harvard. Dad’s had his t-shirt for like-” 

Oliver knows what Talan is talking about. He’d gotten into Harvard before all of this had happened. Before Rotterdam and Nationals getting the Big Envelope from Harvard had been his proudest accomplishment. Knowing that Harvard would be written next to his name in the graduation day program had made him so proud he’d wanted to yell out the news at random strangers.

His dads had been even prouder. The letter had hung on the fridge for weeks until Ryan had framed it and put it up on the mantle next to their family photos. 

The letter from Yale, the letter from NYU, the letter from Michigan, the letter from MIT and the letter from Princeton had all stayed on the fridge like some proud display of parental glory. 

The Harvard coffee mugs had come next, then Ryan had gotten bumper stickers and finally the Harvard Dad t-shirts had come in the mail. Oliver had put a stop to the Harvard merchandise after that one. 

“You gotta go.” Talan repeats. “Dads are so happy.”

“They’re happy you’re alive.” Oliver puts the situation into perspective. 

Talan brushes off his comment like it’s nothing and Oliver starts to think that maybe no one’s told Talan how bad it had been. That Talan doesn’t know that after he’d been forced to leave the hospital he’d wondered if he’d ever see him alive again. 

“Dad wasn’t gonna let me quit.” Talan says casually, “He was gonna like give me his liver? I got a ton of his blood. Brady told me he heard his-” 

“It’s fucked you talk about it like that.” Oliver snaps and then he’s the one who might cry, “You had bones sticking out of you. Me an Dad can’t give you blood even though I tried no one would let me. Dad didn’t leave your fucking room for three days. He wouldn’t even like call to check on me or talk-” 

Oliver gulps for air. He hadn’t come here to fight. He stares at his hands, his fingernails bitten down to the skin and all his cuticles red and swollen. Despite knowing he needs to stop because no one goes to college still chewing their nails he brings his thumb to his mouth and bites. 

“’Ver.” Talan says the nickname so quietly Oliver can barely hear him. “S’ok.” 

The room is quiet and Oliver is scared someone might walk in. He can imagine yelling at Talan is not an approved hospital visit activity. 

“I remember a little.” Talan confesses, speaking carefully like he’s afraid to make Oliver angry again. “Like the first part? falling an’ dad yelling. Waking up here I guess. Not a lot.”

Oliver can’t bring himself to speak. 

“Dad told me like what happened and it was like you didn’t know where I was but you saw me and you swam out?” 

Oliver keeps staring at his hands but manages to nod. 

“Thanks.” Talan says embarrassed.  
Oliver can tell it’s honest. 

“I couldn’t watch you drown.” Oliver explains simply, “I didn’t think about it.” 

It’s Talan’s turn to be quiet. When Oliver looks up at him he sees that his brother’s eyes are closed and his fists are balled up. 

“I tried really hard to make them let me walk.” Talan confesses, “But I can’t. So I can’t go.”

“It’s okay.” Oliver doesn’t feel angry anymore, at least not at Talan, “You’re doing good.” 

“Everyone says that.” Talan rolls his eyes. 

“Your basketball skills are weak as fuck though.” Oliver adds to balance out the compliment, “Your coach sees this you’re gonna be on the bench.” 

“The ball’s not heavy enough!” Talan argues, “Even if I could throw it, it wouldn’t make it.” 

“Lemme try.” Oliver offers before taking the ball from Talan. 

To make things fair, Oliver settles himself on the bed, shoulder to shoulder with Talan. He throws the ball and it makes it one foot from the hoop before it drops on the ground. 

“Yeah see.” Talan says victorious, “Ain’t me.” 

“I made it farther.” Oliver defends himself. 

He doesn’t get up to go get the ball. He stays beside Talan and they both eat the movie theatre candy until it’s gone. When there isn’t any left in the bag, Talan dips his finger in the leftover sugar and licks it off. 

“So why are dads meeting with your doctor?” Oliver asks him. 

“Dunno.” Talan shrugs, “Who’s gonna stay with me, they’re scared I’m depressed.” 

“Are you?” 

Talan shrugs again, not bothering to answer and Oliver guesses that it’s probably true. 

“Wanna call Kasey?” Oliver offers because Talan seems seriously sad all of a sudden. 

“Yo what?” Talan says incredulous shaking his head, “Don’t even.” 

“No like.” Oliver reaches for his phone, “You’re bummed out and like sick kids get wishes right? You get to like go to Disney and not wait or meet famous people. I’m already here-” 

“You didn’t bring your medals.” Talan points out, “You suck at this.”

“Well I’m gonna make this happen.” Oliver hits call before he can really think about what he’s doing, he hands the phone over to Talan. “Here it’s ringing.” 

“Dude no.” Talan pushes the phone away, “No.” 

“She’s gonna answer and no one’s gonna talk and she’ll think I’m being a jerk.” Oliver insists, “Here talk- Hi.” 

Oliver is forced to answer when he hears Casey’s voice calling out his name. 

“Shiiit.” Talan says low, “I’m not-” 

Even across an ocean Kasey’s voice makes Oliver smile. He talks to her easy for a minute before holding the phone out to Talan. 

“She’s a person.” Oliver argues, “Talk.” 

“She’s a girl.” Talan corrects. 

Talan takes the phone though and Oliver tries not to laugh at his awkward conversation. Soon though Talan is talking about his dog and basketball and gets into a long monologue about the importance of saving sea turtles. 

After a few minutes, Talan scribbles something on the back of his hand, says bye and hangs up. 

“She’s cool.” Talan confirms handing the phone back.

“You got a bikini model on the phone and you talk about how ocean fishing kills turtles.” Oliver says disappointed. 

“She thinks turtles are cool.” Talan defends himself, “I’m going to send her information. See?” 

Talan holds out his hand where he’d written an email address Oliver hasn’t yet gotten. 

“She’s using you to get to me.” Talan reveals. “We’ll name our first baby after you.”  
Talan laughs and leans his head sideways to rest it against Oliver’s shoulder. He stops himself after a few seconds and holds a hand to his rib. 

“Fuck that hurts.” He mutters under his breath, “Broken ribs suck.” 

“Drowning woulda been worse.” Oliver comforts. 

“Too soon.” Talan chides but he chuckles anyways. 

* 

Oliver hangs out in Talan’s room for most of the day. He follows him to physio and cheers him through the exercises that Talan complains have gotten harder, not easier. 

As the day goes on more family starts to trickle in. His aunt Kristin shows up right after dinner to take over for the entirety of the trip to Harvard. 

Watching his dads get ready to leave, Oliver starts to feel anxious. He tries to convice himself that everything is okay and that his parents will be in the car driving home with him in under an hour. 

They’re meant to leave at six but it’s past seven and they’re still at the hospital. 

They’d eaten dinner all together, their last complete family meal until Thanksgiving and as normal as they’d tried to make it, his dads had been on edge and Talan had been high on painkillers. Oliver had wanted the whole thing to just end. 

Oliver watches television in a waiting room. Most of their family is crowded in the small room waiting to see him off except for his dads who are already fighting outside. 

“Ry.” Michael says gently, “Five minutes. We have to sign papers before we go and I want to start driving before it’s dark. We were supposed to leave an hour ago.” 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan answers not fully achieving his attempt to sound casual, “I just want to make sure-” 

“Ry.” Michael almost pleads, his voice low, “Don’t make it worse.” 

Oliver can tell his parents are trying to not be overheard but they’re failing big time. 

“I’m tryna-” Ryan starts, “I have to make sure he’s okay. I got make sure he knows.” 

“Are you all packed?” Kristin asks him, “Oliver?” 

“No.” Oliver answers quickly. He knows his aunt is only trying to distract him. “Dad packs better.” 

“He’s sleeping Ryan.” Michael points out, “He knows we’re-” 

“Yeah?” Ryan challenges, “What happened last time I didn’t say bye?” 

“Trustyn didn’t do laundry for a month.” Kristin tells him, “Do your laundry.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver promises, still looking outside the door, “Maybe.” 

“They love you Oliver it’s-” 

“We’re ready to go.” Michael interrupts walking into the room followed closely by Ryan, “We just have to sign a few things but we’re going to head-” 

“I’ll walk up with you to Tal’s room.” Ryan tells Kristin. 

“Ryan.” Kristin gets up, “We’re fine.” 

“I just want to-” 

Oliver isn’t stupid. He can tell what’s going on. Can see clear as day that Ryan doesn’t want to leave. He’s tired of crying so he fights back his tears. His anger though isn’t easily ignored. 

“Just stay here.” He says before he can stop himself. 

“What Gator?” Ryan turns towards him. 

“Just stay here.” Oliver repeats.

The hurt look on Ryan’s face confirms he’d made himself heard. 

“Oliver.” Three voices say in unison. 

“You don’t want to come. Talan doesn’t want you to leave.” Oliver lists angrily, his hands shaking. “So just stay here.” 

His words silence the room. 

“I’m making sure things are set up for Talan before we go.” Ryan explains, “Like Dad. Both of us. We’ll leave in ten minutes.” 

Ryan’s voice has lost all kindness and Oliver seethes. He looks around the room and sees that most of his family is staring at them. He knows none of them really understand what’s gping on. Even Hilary who’d been at home with him doesn’t get the full every day reality of their family. 

Doesn’t get that Ryan had chosen Talan over and over again since Costa Rica. Doesn’t get what had happened while Michael and him had been living in Baltimore. Doesn’t get that Ryan is still standing there because Talan hadn’t ever told the truth. 

“Ok Ols?” Ryan says cautiously, “Ten minutes.”

“No.” Oliver refuses and he doesn’t care he sounds five, “I want to leave now.” 

“Oliver.” Ryan says and he sounds beyond exasperated, “You have wait this is-” 

“This is what?” Oliver challenges, “More important?” 

“Right now yes.” Ryan retorts quickly before taking a breath, “We’re leaving Talan-” 

Ryan’s answer is like a slap in the face and Oliver can’t hold back. 

“If I’m not important enough stay here.” Oliver yells, “I don’t want you to-” 

“That’s not what I said.” Ryan cuts in, “Use your-” 

“SHUT UP.” Oliver yells

“Oliver.” Michael warns, “Watch it.” 

“Or what?” Oliver turns around to face Michael not caring who he’s directing his anger at, “You won’t take me to Harvard? You’re gonna ground me so I don’t go? I’m gonna have to stay here?” 

“Oliver that’s enough.” Bob speaks up. “You don’t talk to-”

“You don’t know.” Oliver roars back furious. 

“Phelps.” Bob says more sternly, standing up. 

“That’s not his name.” Ryan snaps. 

Oliver knows he’s gone too far but he can’t seem to stop. With everyone in the room staring at him and his grandfather about to grab his arm he keeps talking. 

“He doesn’t care.” Oliver let’s out and it’s a ton of brick falling off his shoulders, 

“That’s enough Oliver.” Michael yells, “You’re out of line.” 

“NO.” Oliver turns to face Michael, “An now he cares about Talan but what about-”

“Oliver.” Hilary stands up and tries to stop between the two of them but Debbie holds her back. 

“He got drunk.” Oliver forgets about everyone else and focuses on Michael, “When we were in Baltimore. Talan told me. He got drunk and pass out and Baby found him it’s-” 

Oliver talks desperately, month old secrets pouring out of him. He knows Talan will be mad as hell once he finds out he’s ratted him out but he can’t keep it to himself anymore.

“Oliver.” Ryan warns, “Stop.” 

“That’s enough.” Michael yells reaching for him again. 

“I’m telling the truth.” Oliver insists, struggling against Michael. 

“You’re acting like-.” Michael tells him before roughly letting him go. 

Oliver’s never seen Michael this angry and if he wasn’t so enraged he’d probably be terrified. His hand hurts from hitting the wall but Michael’s betrayal hurts even more. He blinks at his parents for a second before he talks. 

“You’re gonna believe him?” Oliver challenges, pointing to Ryan. “You know I’m right.” 

“Oliver.” Michael’s voice is still firm, “We’re not talking about this.” 

“Go ask Talan.” Oliver dares, “Ask him to tell you how he missed shit because Dad was too drunk to drive him.” 

“Talan’s sleeping.” Michael says, “We’re not going to-” 

“Yeah an’ he won’t ‘cause he don’t want you to fight. He thinks you guys are gonna split up and he doesn’t want you to take him away from Dad. You know fucking nothing. If you gave a shit Tal wouldn’t have had to-” 

“Enough.” Michael yells, “Shut up Oliver.” 

“Mike.” Ryan steps up behind him.

“Is it true?” Michael turns to Ryan, “What he’s saying?” 

There’s a beat of silence and Oliver shakes out his hand. 

“Ry.” Michael says with pleading sadness and Oliver doesn’t think he’s ever heard him speak in that tone before. 

“No.” Ryan answers quickly and Oliver sees him avoiding Kristin’s stare. “It’s not.” 

“Are you kidding me?” Oliver cries out, “You’re gonna believe. He can’t even look at-”

Oliver turns around and walks towards Ryan. He’s just as tall as his dad and shaking with anger. He balls up his fist and pulls back ready to strike. Before he can punch though someone’s hand is over his fist. 

“Oliver.” His grandfather has a tight grip on his shoulder and his wrist, “Walk.”

Oliver listens. He walks out of the room without looking back at anyone. His grandfather pulls him down the hallways until he finds an empty waiting room. 

“There.” He points to a chair, “Sit. Cool down.” 

“I-” Oliver starts. 

“No Champ.” Bob warns, sitting down beside him. “Your mouth’s gotten you in enough trouble.”

Oliver bites his tongue and then the side of his thumb. 

“We didn’t know.” Bob tells him, “I’m sorry.”

*

Ryan walks out of the room without speaking to anyone and Michael follows him. 

“Ry.” Michael calls out after him once he’s in the hallway. 

“Where d’he take him?” Ryan turns around and sounds frazzled, “Where’s he?” 

“I don’t know Ry.” Michael reaches for his husband, “Probably outside to cool off or-” 

“He thinks I don’t love him?” Ryan calls out, his voice strained “That like I don’t give a shit?” 

When Michael realizes Ryan isn’t angry. He drops his arm and Ryan drops to the floor with his back pressed against the wall. 

“You-” Michael tries to think of how to say it, “You’ve been with Tal and he needed you Ry. He had to know you-” 

Ryan hangs his head. 

“He’s hurt.” Michael keeps explaining, “So he’s-” 

“He doesn’t want me to go?” Ryan asks, “You think he means that?” 

“No.” Michael says quickly, “He wouldn’t have done that if-” 

“I was always gonna go.” Ryan insist, “He has to know that like-” 

“He knows Ry.” Michael reassures. “He’s angry.” 

Michael doesn’t know what to think. Doesn’t know who to trust or what to do. He wants to take Oliver home and he wants to get Ryan away from the hospital before he changes his mind about following them. 

They go looking for Oliver outside. They walk side by side down the grassy areas in front the hospital their hands occasionally brushing together. Ryan grabs onto Michael’s hand as they turn back around without having found their oldest son. 

“I was drunk once.” Ryan says quiet, “After Kyle’s birthday party. I got a cab home and Tal was supposed to be at Dev’s but he came home instead. I was on the couch sleeping I didn’t-” 

Michael doesn’t know if Ryan is telling the truth. He knows that Oliver and Talan keep each other’s secrets sacred. He also knows that as the boys had gotten older, Ryan and him had come home drunk a few times from parties and from games. 

“We’ll talk about it later. We just gotta get Ols home.” 

“I swear I wouldn’t like put him in danger.” Ryan pleads, “You know I-” 

“Yeah.” Michael nods mostly to pacify his husband, “I do.”

They find Oliver by accident. They bump into him as he’s walking out of a bathroom.  
Ryan hugs him before any words can be exchanged. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers to Oliver and Michael can see Ryan’s knuckles are white from gripping onto their kid, “I-” 

The rest of Ryan’s words are lost, whispered to Oliver only. Michael watches them closely waiting for Oliver to lash out but Oliver doesn’t. 

Michael expects Oliver to refuse to get in a car with them but he willingly follows them to the car. He walks between the two of them with Ryan’s hand slung around his shoulders.

As he drives back home up the turnpike, Michael looks from Oliver sleeping in the back with his feet propped up against the center console to Ryan who’s busy typing on his phone with one hand his other arm stretching over Oliver’s legs to rest his hand on Michael’s thigh. 

Michael still doesn’t know who to trust. 

*

Ryan is glad to be home. They’d gone to bed shortly after getting back the night before and now with just one day left before they leave for Harvard packing Oliver’s things is the only thing on his mind. 

While Michael is still sleeping, Ryan walks up to Oliver’s room with two cups of coffee expecting to find his kid still in bed. Instead, he finds Oliver sitting on the floor sorting through books. 

Oliver had accepted his apology the day before but Ryan is still cautions. Hates how much he’d hurt Oliver.

Oliver’s room is more chaotic than Ryan’s ever seen it. There are piles and garbage bags and half filled bins everywhere and Oliver looks frazzled and discouraged. 

“You know you can leave stuff behind.” Ryan walks further into Oliver’s room, picks up an old swimming trophy and puts it back on Oliver’s desk, “This is still your room.” 

He moves a pile of hoodies to sit down next to his son. He hands him a cup of coffee before he takes a sip of his own. 

“Need help?” He offers. 

“Yeah.” Oliver admits, “I suck.” 

“What d’you pack so far?” Ryan asks looking around the room for a stack of filled bins. 

“Shoes.” Oliver points to one of his suitcases, “’Bout it.” 

“Important stuff.” Ryan grins. 

Oliver smiles back weakly before focusing back on his books. As he’d expected Ryan knows he isn’t completely forgiven. 

“Wanna go grab some breakfast?” Ryan offers, “We can map out a plan?” 

Oliver shakes his head. He drinks coffee and puts the book he’d been looking at on top of the larger pile to his left. 

“I really am sorry Gator.” Ryan apologizes again, “I know I wasn’t like there and that’s not something I ever wanted to do.” 

Oliver is looking through a new book. He takes a bookmark out from halfway through the pages and throws it into an open garbage bag. 

Ryan waits for him to talk. 

“Just sucked.” Oliver finally says. 

“Yeah dude I know.” Ryan agrees, taking the next book in the pile and running his thumb up the spine. “I wanted to hang out with you. I just had to make sure Talan was good. I woulda done the same thing for you. You’re like-” 

“I’m like what?” Oliver asks. 

Ryan looks around Oliver’s room, the same room he’s had since they’d moved to Florida. One of the only rooms that had gone untouched when the hurricane had destroyed a good part of their home. 

Ryan remembers bringing Oliver here alone, before Michael had agreed to move to Florida. On the weeks when he’d go get Oliver in Baltimore and fly him to Florida, how he’d missed weeks of practice to be with him. 

Ryan remembers installing rail guards on Oliver’s bed to make sure he wouldn’t fall. He remembers the glow in the dark stars they’d put up on the ceiling after Oliver had become obsessed with Buzz Lightyear. 

Ryan remembers getting home the day his father had passed away and spending entire nights awake watching Oliver sleep. Oliver had been the breakthrough in getting his dad to accept his life. Once they’d shown up with ultrasound pictures and a recording of the heartbeat his father hadn’t been able to stay mad. 

His Dad had loved Oliver. 

After Rio, Ryan had hung all the medals he’d gotten off the posts of Oliver’s toddler bed because he’d won them all for him. 

“I’m what?” Oliver asks again his voice curious.

“You.” Ryan keeps going, smiling as he puts the book down. “I waited a really long time for you. Like longer than your dad an me talked ‘bout having you. You were born and it was just us yeah?”

“Yeah.” Oliver nods, “Because I-” 

“You were stoked to hang out.” Ryan re-explains Oliver’s birth story for the hundredth time. Making one of the scariest moments of his life sound like a fond memory. “I was the only one home.” 

Oliver settles himself back against the side of his bed and takes a sip of coffee waiting for the rest of the story. 

“You were born,” Ryan’s smile drops a little at the memory, “I got to hold you for like a second and then they took you away ‘cause you couldn’t breathe you were tiny.” 

“I made it out.” Oliver reminds him, “Was like the toughest baby there.” 

“Yeah and we didn’t leave.” Ryan points out, “We didn’t leave the NICU. We had doctors say you were too early and you’d missed out on oxygen so your brain might not be okay. Until you we could bring you home we stayed. I did it for you too Gator.” 

Oliver focuses on making his stack of book even, he carefully takes a large book from the top and slides it close to the bottom of the pile. He opens another one out to smooth out its dog-eared corners. t 

“Your dad and me we hadn’t done that before yeah?” Ryan keeps talking, “So we’d like watch you breathe and say we were gonna take you home and teach you to walk and teach you to play basketball and bring you to football games… Like we’d one up each other. Take you to Pre School, teach you to read, how to ride a bike. Buy you your first car and like take you to college.” 

“Yeah?” Oliver looks up from the shirt, “Where was I going?” 

“Florida.” Ryan grins, “Didn’t know you were gonna be a traitor.” 

Oliver puts down the book and finally smiles back. 

“I got you Gator. From the start.” Ryan reaches to squeeze the back of Oliver’s neck before bringing him closer to kiss his cheek, “I love you.” 

Ryan hopes that it’s enough for now. He knows he can’t take back the last few weeks, that he can’t make up for not calling, for not checking in, for not bringing Oliver on the helicopter with him. What he hopes he can do is make it up to Oliver now. Help him pack, get him to school and help him get settle. To let him know that as big and impersonal as Harvard might be, he always has their home to come back to. That they’re always going to be his soft spot to land. That to them he’s always meant everything. 

So while Ryan attacks Oliver’s dresser and his closet, packing as much as he can in every plastic bin he lets Oliver slowly sort through his books. 

As Ryan starts using the bed to make sure Oliver had enough socks to get him through his first semester he notices that under the dozen other piles Oliver’s bed is still made. 

“D’you sleep last night?” Ryan asks concerned. “The truth Ols.” 

Oliver seems to hesitate and Ryan already knows the answer. 

“I can’t sleep.” Oliver admits, “It’s-” 

He stops talking and Ryan abandons the socks to walk back across the bed towards his son. 

“Why?” 

“D’you like?” Oliver hesitates again, “I have nightmares.”

“’Bout the beach?” Ryan guesses. 

Ryan guesses because he knows the nightmares are real. He’s woken up in cold sweat every night since the accident. After he’s watched Talan drown or he’s watched the accident happen without being able to move to go help. After he’s watched both his kids die on the beach. After he’s realized Oliver’s has been left alone with no way back to Michael. 

“I get ‘em too.” Ryan divulges, “Tal like doesn’t-” 

“Yeah.” Oliver nods. 

Ryan doesn’t know if it’s okay to talk about Talan or if bringing him up will make Oliver feel unimportant. 

“He’s okay right?” Oliver asks, “Like no one’s making things up so I go?” 

“He’s good.” Ryan reassures, “We’ll bring him home next week. When he’s walking we’ll bring him to see you.” 

“Brady told me he was going to swim.” Oliver offers, “For rehab.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan laughs at the idea, “We’ll put floaties on him.” 

Oliver laughs at the image.

Ryan surveys the room and knows there’s no way they’ll finish packing today. He makes his way to a pile of t-shirts, picks it up and drops it in a plastic container before gathering up all the socks and throwing them on top. 

“We ain’t got time to fold.” Ryan explains before he shakes his head disappointed, “Just start dumping.”

*

That night, the SUV is jam-packed full of things. They’re flying to Cambridge by jet in the morning and though everything seems disorganized they’re trying their best to have be ready. 

Oliver had chosen pizza and wings for their last meal and they’d eaten in the living room while watching a baseball game. It had been a normal night but Michael hadn’t been able to stop himself from feeling shattered. 

Oliver is walking the dogs and Ryan is trying to fit two more bins in the car. Michael knows Ryan is desperately trying to make sure Oliver is ready for anything. Oliver already has boots and two winter coats. Things Ryan had bought before he’d left for Costa Rica. Things Ryan might have been stockpiling all year. As sad as he is, Michael knows that Oliver is prepared for anything. Like Ryan had packed their suitcases for Rio, he’s packed Oliver up for college. All in one day, with probably more important things to do. Ryan shows love by making sure everyone is always okay. 

Still, Oliver’s words from the hospital nag at him. 

Michael makes his way upstairs, opens the door to Oliver’s room and gasps. 

“Oh shit.” Michael lets out breathless.

Stripped of everything that matters the most to Oliver, of all the things he’s collected over his life and all the things that have made this room his, the room seems bare and impersonal. Like there’s no life left in it, like it belongs to a stranger. It’s the official sign that Oliver is leaving, that he no longer lives at home and taking it in feels almost like grief. 

He walks into the room and looks around at the trinkets Oliver had chosen to leave behind; things that no longer fit in his life. All of the Orioles’ hats he’d worn over the years, starting with the first one that had been nothing more than a baby tuque. The newest one is missing and Michael knows he’ll probably see it again in a day or two when it’s pulled out of a neatly labeled bin. 

The grief is overwhelming and Michael knows it’s ridiculous. Knows that this is good. That this is what Oliver wants. That Harvard is the best thing to happen to Oliver. He tries to pull himself together but just finds himself standing in the middle of his son’s mostly empty bedroom crying. 

“Mike.” Ryan put a hand on his shoulder. “He’s gonna be back.” 

Michael hadn’t even noticed that Ryan had walked into the room. 

“Not to stay.” Michael struggles to say. 

He feels Ryan lean his forehead against him and knows Ryan is struggling just as hard with the change. 

“Thing is.” Ryan starts to say, “We’re still home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is two months coming and it might have been the roughest to write. It could have been split in two but I really wanted it all together.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a struggle. 
> 
> Tides came to be more than two years ago. Its plot and bits and pieces of story line were all crammed into one gigantic word document. Because it had always been a "If I get there" fic rather than something I knew I would write the plot kind of diverged into several possible options.
> 
> Chapter 15 is where that giant word doc ran out and I was on my own again to carve out the rest of the plot. 
> 
> Those of you who read my kidfic back on livejournal know that Oliver going to Harvard went an entirely different way before Talan. [Down](http://olympickids.livejournal.com/18065.html#cutid2) was written in October of 2012 and originally Tides picked it back up. 
> 
> Figuring out what was meant to happen in Tides after chapter 15 was hard because I didn't want to give any of the potential plots up. I changed things and tweaked things and changed one major plot point to try and reconcile all these lost outcomes. 
> 
> Some parts of this chapter were written two years ago, others were written this afternoon. I have been staring at this chapter since August. I would love to know how you like it because I can't tell anymore. Your comments mean everything to me.
> 
> In the end I hope you like it. 
> 
> There is one more chapter of Tides and then the rest should follow as another story. 
> 
> Thank you so much for still reading. I'm truly sorry I can't dedicate more of my time to writing for you.

**Daytona Beach**

Ryan watches the minutes go by on his alarm clock for an hour before he gives up on sleep. He checks his phone for messages or missed phone calls for the hundredth time. 

He can’t stop worrying. 

They fly out in the early morning to move Oliver into his dorm and get him settled on campus. The thought of it is overwhelming. The thought of sending Oliver away is painful. Thinking of being in another state while Talan is still in the hospital sucks. He wishes there was an easy solution but knows there isn’t. 

He gets out of bed and leaves the master bedroom without waking up Michael. He makes it more than halfway to the stairs before he’s stopped. 

“Dad?” Oliver calls out. 

Ryan closes his eyes. 

“Sleep dude.” Ryan says to the empty hallway and not to Oliver. 

Ryan has nothing left to give. As much as he loves Oliver he can’t think of dealing with a breakdown or another explosion of anger. 

“I know.” Oliver says sounding guilty, “I just –" 

The guilt in Oliver’s voice is what forces Ryan to turn away from the hallway, the stairs and the liquor cabinet in the kitchen and walk into Oliver’s room. 

“Yeah?” Ryan asks from the doorway. 

Oliver is still dressed and still sorting through his things. In front of him is an old Tupperware container filled with medals and trophies. Ryan spots a gold medal from Rio hanging from the side of the bin by its ribbon. 

“Go to bed. “ Exhaustion and impatience edge their way into Ryan’s voice. “Nothing else is gonna fit in the car.”

Oliver doesn’t answer. He keeps sorting through the forgotten prizes in silence. Not knowing what to do, Ryan sits down in front of him. 

“Oliver.” Ryan reaches out to still both of Oliver’s hands, “Gator Stop.”

Both of Oliver’s thumbnails are bloody and all his fingertips look inflamed. Ryan holds Oliver’s hands closer to his face for inspection.

“Jesus Ols.” Ryan shakes his head.   
Oliver jerks his hands back and balls them up in the sleeves of his shirt. 

“That one’s yours.” Oliver motions to the gold medal. 

“Ols you’re not-” 

Ryan wants to put bandaids on all of Oliver’s fingers like when he was five. He wants to go back to the psychologist appointment they’d had with Oliver at the hospital and be more honest with the doctor. He wishes he’d been more aware of how bad Oliver was taking everything. 

“Are your sleeping pills in your bathroom?” Ryan asks, “Did you sleep yesterday?” 

“It shouldn’t be in the bin.” Oliver insists looking up.

Ryan can tell Oliver doesn’t want to talk about his fingers. He doesn’t want to take his sleeping pills. He doesn’t want to talk about his nightmares or how many hours he’s slept in the past week. 

“It’s yours.” Ryan answers because with Oliver it’s always been easier to talk around the problem. 

Oliver considers the medal for a moment before carefully slipping it back into the bin. 

“I don’t want to be the guy with a gold medal in his room.” Oliver explains. 

Ryan doesn’t know what Oliver’s last two weeks have been like. He’d tried to keep him with people he trusted. Fought for Oliver to stay with Caleb and Bruce. Guesses that Michael had taken him away as a defensive move. He’s ashamed that Oliver’s been treated like a pawn. 

“Why you going through all this shit?” Ryan lets out the swear word before he can think. “I told you nothing fits.” 

“I dunno.” Oliver answers. 

“Nah dude.” Ryan reaches out for Oliver over the bin. He cups his hand around his son’s shoulder and squeezes, “Tell me.” 

“Like…” Oliver briefly rests his head against Ryan’s hand. He hesitates. 

“Ols.” Ryan prompts because Oliver doesn’t respond to silence. 

“I go to bed and when I wake up I leave.” Oliver admits his voice soft.

“We ain’t asking for your keys.” Ryan comforts. “You can come back.” 

Oliver slips his hands out from his sleeve and brings one of his hands to his mouth. 

“Don’t.” Ryan sighs taking Oliver’s hand in his own again. “That hurts.”

Instead of biting his nails, Oliver rubs his hand over his face before he starts running his fingers up and down his jaw rubbing against his stubble. He looks down at the floor and blinks faster. 

Ryan waits. 

“No one’s asking me to stay.” Oliver says and his voice sounds bitter. “Like no one-” 

“It’s college.” Ryan says. “What we gonna do? Lock you up and never let you leave? We’re gonna miss you but you gotta go. Ain’t a bad thing.” 

“I don’t know.” Oliver decides, “I wanted to wait but Dad said no.” 

“Your Dad’s right.” Ryan tells Oliver without thinking. “It’s good for you.” 

This isn’t one of his best speeches. 

Oliver isn’t doing this for attention. Between Rotterdam and now Oliver’s self esteem had taken a huge hit. The grinning guy with nine gold medals around his neck is gone. A self-doubting unsure teenager has taken over. 

“Everyone’s new at college.” Ryan keeps talking to redeem his lackluster speech, “No one knows anyone. You’re gonna be-” 

“Yeah but like.” Oliver cuts him off, “Everyone else gets to be invisible yeah? Start over and shit no one knows anything about you. Like everyone knows everything ‘bout me.”

“People way famous than you got to Harvard.” Ryan says, “Like I don’t think it-” 

“Yeah it does.” Oliver says, “You don’t get it.”

Ryan stops trying. 

He gathers up all the awards and dumps them back into the Tupperware bin. The gold medal from Rio is buried under Oliver’s swimming awards. A tiny medal from one of his very first swim meets ends up at the top of the pile. 

“These stay here?” Ryan asks putting the lid back on the bin. 

“Um yeah.” Oliver nods. 

“Go to bed.” Ryan says once the plastic bin is back in Oliver’s closet. “Look, Bert’s tired.”

Oliver’s dog is stretched out across the foot of the bed. He looks at Oliver wearily before yawning. Oliver reaches back to pet him. 

“I gotta leave him too.” Oliver looks down.

Ryan had been excited to leave for college. Excited to live somewhere away from his father where maybe he could be himself. Where maybe he could find someone other than Dan Meeks to make out. 

He’d been reluctant to leave Devon though because Devon wasn’t able to stand up to their dad. 

He hates that maybe Oliver feels the same about Talan. 

“Talan’s gonna take care of Bert.” Ryan reassures. Trying to maybe shoulder each of Oliver’s worries one at a time. 

“He doesn’t let him sleep on the bed.” Oliver reproaches.

“He will.” Ryan keeps the promises coming.

Oliver rolls his eyes but stands up anyways and climbs into bed.

“You make friends Oliver.” Ryan says, kicking the medal bin to the side. “People like you.”

“You’re my dad.” Oliver stares at him, “Like thanks but-” 

Ryan grits his teeth to stop himself from saying something that wouldn’t help. 

“You gotta go Ols.” Ryan says, “You want to go to Harvard. You’re just scared. That’s okay.”

Olive stretches out to grab a book from a forgotten pile on the floor. He folds it open and starts reading from somewhere in the middle. He ignores Ryan. 

Ryan doesn’t walk out. He tries to make Oliver’s room look less barren. He moves trinkets and pictures from one shelf to another. Settles some books on Oliver’s desk and reaches into Oliver’s closet to pull out more things; an old backpack, his uniform tie, a broken pair of goggles and a tiny racing suit. 

“You can like throw those out.” Oliver suggests pointing to the goggles. 

Ryan drops the backpack by the desk chair, the uniform tie on top of his dresser and the racing suit on one of the shelves. He plays with the straps of the goggles trying to thread it back through the clip. 

“I got like fifty pairs in the garage.” Oliver points out. “They’re gonna send more too.”

Ryan still tries to fix the goggles. He sits down on Oliver’s bed and tugs on the elastic strap until it snaps in two. 

“They’re old.” Oliver points out, “Like before I went to grandma’s.” 

Swimming has always been important to Ryan. It’s always been a part of his life and always been something he’s loved. Tonight sitting across from Oliver he can’t help but hate that swimming had taken Oliver away from them so much over the past year. 

“If you really don’t want to go.” Ryan keeps his voice low as he knots the elastic strap back together. Something he’d had to do to his own goggles as kid when there hadn’t been fifty other pairs in the garage, “we’ll figure it out. If you ain’t ready.” 

Oliver is only seventeen. Oliver has nightmares. Oliver isn’t sleeping.

“We love you a lot.” Ryan continues, “We don’t want you to-” 

Get hurt. Ryan doesn’t finish. Feel alone. Ryan doesn’t say. 

“We packed the car.” Oliver shrugs, “I gotta.” 

“You don’t have to do nothing.” Ryan reminds him, “Not for me.” 

Oliver pets Bert and chews his lip. 

“My room’s my room right?” Oliver asks quietly a few moments later, “Tal ain’t getting it?” 

“I have to cancel the pool table order but I guess we don’t need a game room.” Ryan jokes as he briefly looks up from the pair of goggles.

Oliver lets out a fake laugh. It’s a hollow threat. They already have a pool table in the basement. 

“Rooms yours Gator.” Ryan reassures. “What else you got?” 

“Nothing.” Oliver says after a pause. 

“We gotta be up early.” Ryan squeezes Oliver’s leg through the blanket before getting up, “I’ll get the light.”

Ryan waits a few seconds before he stands up, flicks off the lights and partly closes Oliver’s door. He stands alone in the darkened hallway and turns to walk downstairs. 

“Ry?” 

Ryan almost doesn’t turn around. 

“Ry?” Michael tries again, “What’s-” 

Michael is standing at the door of the master bedroom, shirtless and pushing his hair back. 

“Hoops’ scratching at the door.” Ryan lies, “I’m gonna go see if he needs to walk.” 

“Just let him out.” Michael says yawning, “Come back to bed.” 

“You wanna tell Tal his dog got eaten by a gator?” Ryan challenges. “I’ll be right back.” 

Ryan hears Michael walk back inside their room. Instead of heading downstairs, Ryan backtracks to Talan’s room. 

Hoops is sleeping across Talan’s unmade mostly bare bed. Ryan refuses to look at all of Talan’s things.

“Come on dude.” Ryan calls out after Hoops, “Let’s go.” 

The French bulldog opens his eyes and blinks at Ryan uninterested before yawning and curling away from him. 

“Yeah no.” Ryan says, picking up the dog, “We’re going out.” 

Ryan carries Hoops downstairs to the kitchen. He puts him down on the floor and Hoops immediately heads towards the dog bed in the living room. 

Ryan lets him go. He gets a can of Sprite, pours half of it out into the sink before he reaches above the fridge for the liquor cabinet. He grabs a bottle of vodka and pours a generous amount in the pop can.

He whistles for Hoops but the dog doesn’t move. 

“Fine.” Ryan calls out after the dog, “Stay there.” 

He turns on the Christmas lights strewn across the backyard and walks over to the pool. He sits on one of the chairs and curiously kicks through a pile of Oliver’s clothes. He picks up the shorts and the t-shirt and folds them before leaning back against the back of his chair.

It’s summer in Florida. The air is muggy and hot and the backyard hasn’t been mowed or taken care of in almost a month. The water in the pool has taken on a green tinge and the grass is out of control. 

Ryan takes one drink from the pop can before he puts it on the ground and pushes it away from him. He gets that being drunk is not the answer. He gets that he should want to be in bed next to his husband. Gets that he should be able to make Michael feel better about Oliver leaving for Harvard. That he should be able to make Oliver feel better about leaving. 

He picks up the can and takes another drink. 

He should be able to handle this. He should be able to take care of Talan and be there for Oliver. To make sure everyone in his family is okay. He should have been able to listen to doctors without getting angry should have been able to face everything without alcohol. 

He shouldn’t drink. 

He’s never felt like a shitty parent before. 

He drinks. 

His marriage has fallen apart and he guesses that things will only get uglier. At least Oliver will be safe away from everything. Oliver won’t have to witness any of it first hand. 

Ryan doesn’t know how he’s going to protect Talan. 

He takes another drink.

The lights in the kitchen flick on and a second later Ryan hears the door open. He glances back and sees Michael walk out onto the deck and down the stairs towards the pool. 

Ryan hides the Sprite can under the hedges that separate the pool from the rest of the yard.

Michael is still shirtless and his hair is still sticking out everywhere. Ryan looks up at him. 

“Hoops is inside.” Michael points out. “Saw the lights from our room.”

“Um yeah.” Ryan admits, “I just needed to sit here. Quiet.” 

He expects Michael to talk but instead Michael stretches out in the space next to him. Forcing Ryan to turn on his side to give him enough room. 

“What time are we leaving?” Michael asks. 

“Six.” Ryan says, “We move him in. He spends the night with us. We got a dinner thing with him. A parent assembly. We take him out for breakfast then we leave.” 

“Tal?” Michael asks.

“He has physio everyday. He has therapy.” Ryan yawns, “Kristin’s gonna stay with him. He has a nurse. He’s okay.”

“I’ll get him home after.” Michael promises. 

Ryan nods. Michael’s go to forgiveness move has always been to try and pull strings to save the day. To play the Michael Phelps Card and get his way, to throw money at a problem until it magically gets solved. Ryan wonders if getting Talan home is really about Talan. 

“Maybe we should move to New York.” Michael suggests, 

Ryan sits up. This is what Michael wants. 

“I’ve been thinking.” Michael continues, reaching for Ryan’s arm. “The apartment has no stairs and there are better hospitals.”

“Tal hates New York.” Ryan reminds him. 

“Oliver could come on weekends.” 

“All his friends are here.” 

“He won’t be going to school so-” 

“I said we’d stay home.” Ryan cuts Michael off, “When he was pissed about going to New York. I promised we’d stay in Florida after.” 

“New York’s better-” Michael just keeps talking. 

Ryan stands up. 

“For you yeah.” Ryan cuts Michael off.

“There’s no stairs.” Michael speaks in short sentences, his tone condescending “Better doctors. Closer to Oliver-”

Ryan forgets about the can of Sprite. He rubs a hand over his face and tries to remember that Oliver’s bedroom gives out on the backyard. 

“Who cares what we want right?” Ryan says. 

“It makes sense.” Michael argues, “It’s-” 

Ryan turns around and starts walking away. Abandoning a fight he’s too tired to get through. He refuses to entertain the idea of moving to New York. 

“It’s not over ‘cause you walk away.” Michael calls out, “Dammit Ry.” 

Ryan ignores him. He wants to slam the kitchen door shut but doesn’t want to wake up Oliver. He takes a breath and looks around. 

The clock on the microwave tells him it’s two in the morning. 

He walks up to their master bedroom without checking on Oliver. He takes his phone and locks himself in the bathroom. He turns on the shower but doesn’t get in. 

He dials for Kristin. She answers right before her answering machine kicks in.

“He’s sleeping.” She answers. “Go to bed.” 

“He’s okay?” Ryan asks, trying to keep his voice casual. 

“Yes Ryan.” His sister says impatient. 

Michael knocks at the bathroom door. 

“Ryan.” His voice sounds just as impatient, “This is not over.” 

“Talan is fine.” Kristin says again, “Go to bed.”

“Yeah.” Ryan nods, “Thanks. Tell him-”

Michael knocks on the bathroom door again. Ryan turns his body towards the shower. 

“Ryan.” Michael calls out his voice impatient. “You’re not in the shower I can hear you-” 

“I’ll call him.” Ryan keeps ignoring Michael, “He can call me I’ll answer. Anytime.” 

“We’re not done.” Michael keeps talking, “Open the door. What the fuck is-” 

“Ryan.” Kristin sighs, “You have to-” 

“RYAN.” Michael yells before he bangs on the door again. “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR.”

Ryan tightens his fist and tries to stay calm. Forces himself not to think about the tone of voice Michael had used in the back yard.

“RYAN.” Michael yells again. 

“Is everything okay?” Kristin asks and she sounds more awake. Definitely alarmed. 

“Yeah…” Ryan says vaguely, “It’s just-” 

“Dad?” Oliver’s voice is coming from right outside the bathroom door. 

“Ryan.” Kristin’s voice is harsh, “What’s happening?”

“Dad.” Oliver says again. 

“Oliver.” Michael’s voice is infinitely calmer, “Sorry it’s-” 

“I’ll call tomorrow.” Ryan says dismissively to Kristin, “Thanks.” 

Ryan hangs up, takes his shirt off, puts his head under the shower jet and wraps a towel around his waist. 

“Dad!” Oliver calls out again, his voice more pleading. 

Ryan unlocks and opens the bathroom door. Michael is a foot away from his face and Oliver is three feet behind him looking worried. 

“What’s going on?” Oliver demands. 

“Nothing.” Michael and Ryan answer at almost the same time. 

“Don’t lie.” Oliver shoots back angry.

Michael has backed up so he’s standing closer to Oliver than to Ryan. Oliver is staring at him. 

Oliver’s pulled himself up to his full height. He stands stiffly in front of Michael. One of his hands brushing the back of his own neck and his other balled up at his side. 

“Gator it’s okay-” Ryan takes a step towards him. 

“Go back to-” Michael adds. 

“No. I can’t sleep.” Oliver interrupts both of them. “What’s going on?”

Ryan and Michael stare at each other. 

“I heard something fall.” Michael looks away before he lies, “Thought your dad was hurt.” 

“I hit the dish where your dad keeps his glasses.” Ryan backs up Michael, “Then I got in the shower. It’s okay Gator why can’t you sleep?” 

Oliver looks from Ryan to Michael and shoves his hands in the pajama pants he’s wearing. His hair sticks up in the same way as Michael’s does, the dark circles under his eyes look even worse in the light pouring from the bathroom. He looks betrayed.

“Bud, let’s go-” Michael takes Oliver’s arm but Oliver doesn’t move. 

“Can we like watch a movie?” Oliver asks, “Or a game or- I know it’s late but I can’t sleep and I don’t want-” 

“It’s time to sleep.” Michael tells Oliver.

“I can’t sleep.” Oliver repeats. 

The fight about New York isn’t over. They’ve swept their anger away for Oliver’s benefit but Ryan’s heart still pounds in his chest. 

“I’m freaking out.” Oliver admits to both of them, “Please like-” 

He sounds almost guilty and his begging breaks Ryan’s heart. 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods. “Lemme get dressed.”

Michael looks unsure for another second before he agrees. 

“I’ll make pancakes.” Michael concedes, “Go pick what you wanna watch.” 

*

Oliver doesn’t sleep. 

He watches the movie and eats the pancakes and watches both his dads drift in and out of sleep. He pets Bert and rubs his ears and tries to think of a way to let his dog know that he’s not abandoning him, that he’ll be back. 

“They don’t let dogs in the dorms dude.” Oliver whispers, “If they did I’d take you.” 

Oliver takes his empty plate to the kitchen and slips it into the dishwasher. He grabs a blueberry juice box from the fridge and heads upstairs. 

He turns on his shower, gets undressed and walks back towards the vanity to grab his razor. He watches himself in the mirror for a second before grabbing his phone, and taking a picture of himself. He sends it to Evan before he can think about it too much. 

He waits. 

He walks to his bedroom to get a towel and by the time checks his phone again Evan’s sent a picture back. 

Oliver bites his lip and locks the bathroom door. He jacks himself off a few times to get hard before he takes another picture, one that doesn’t cut off below the waist. 

He risks bringing his phone into the shower and rests it on the shower caddy where his body wash bottle usually stands. He turns his face towards the jet of hot water and strokes himself slowly waiting for Evan to reply. 

Evan is in bed, Oliver can tell by the boxers and the sheets. He remembers what it feels like to sleep next to him, on him, under him. Remembers waking up to Evan kissing his chest and calming him down after nightmares. With Evan he’d been able to sleep.

Evan sends a video next and Oliver moans into the jet of water as he watches it. He reaches out to call and is still moaning when Evan answers. 

“Hey slut.” Evan says. 

Oliver groans. 

“That shouldn’t get you off.” Evan points out. 

“I miss you.” Oliver breathes out, “Can’t sleep.” 

“This how I help?” Evan laughs, “By listening to you jerk off?” 

“I miss you.” Oliver repeats. 

“Wish I was there.” Evan admits. His voice is deeper and quieter than before.

“Yeah?” Oliver asks. 

“Yeah.” Evan says, “Sucking your dick.” 

“Fuck Ev.” Oliver breathes out.

There’s a minute of silence. Oliver rests his head against the shower wall and moves his hand faster. 

“I have a roommate dude.” Evan whispers, “I can’t.” 

“Right.” Oliver agrees, his hand slowing down.

“We broke up.” Evan reminds him, “You broke up with me.” 

“I know.” Oliver says dumbly. “But like-” 

A conversation isn’t what Oliver is looking for. 

“Wanna think about it?” Evan proposes, his voice low and dirty. “Change your mind?” 

“Yeah.” Oliver nods. 

“That’s what I thought.” Evan says.

Oliver can tell Evan is smiling. There’s nothing he wants more than to be with him. 

“I’m gonna be at Harvard tomorrow.” Oliver says, “Like today.” 

“Maybe I’ll go see you.” Evan says, “Maybe you come see me.”

“Maybe we go somewhere else.” Oliver suggests, “With no one else.” 

Thinking about leaving with Evan is better than thinking about anything else in his life. Oliver imagines them in Mexico. Of being alone and not having to care about people overhearing or about having to sneak back home. 

“I wanna hear you cum.” Evan almost growls, his voice so quiet Oliver barely hears him, “Think of me fucking you.” 

“Fuck.” Oliver swears. “Please.” 

Oliver stops thinking about leaving, about his parents fighting, about Harvard, about Talan, about everything he’s afraid of. He thinks of Evan naked over him in a hotel room somewhere quiet. Thinks of Evan’s fingers in him and how Evan’s dick feels against his tongue. 

He forgets to breathe. The steam and the heat make him almost dizzy and his vision blurs when he cums. Black spots dance in front of his eyes and he can’t remember if he’d been quiet or if he’d yelled out. 

He catches his breath and listens to Evan’s breathing. 

“Call tomorrow.” Evan says. 

“Yeah.” Oliver says again and hates that his vocabulary has been reduced to one-word answers. That to Evan he must sound dumb and desperate, “Miss you.” 

Evan hangs up without saying anything else and Oliver is left breathing hard alone in his shower. 

*

Michael wakes up alone on the couch. 

He finds Ryan asleep in their bed and Oliver awake on the beach with his dog. 

By the time Michael walks back upstairs Ryan is in the shower. Michael tries the bathroom door but it’s locked. 

Michael is forced to shower in Talan’s bathroom. Talan’s shampoo smells like bubblegum and when Michael searches the cabinet for mouthwash he finds a Playboy magazine from 2012 with Lindsay Lohan on the cover. He leaves it there and decides to go use his own mouthwash. 

Ryan is out of the bathroom, dressed and zipping up his overnight bag. 

“Head out in ten.” He tells Michael without looking at him, “Where’s Ols?” 

“Beach.” Michael points to somewhere beyond their bedroom, “Ry-” 

“Your bag’s in the closet.” Ryan interrupts him.

Ryan grabs his bag and walks out. Michael can hear him head down the stairs and into the kitchen. A few seconds later he hears the backdoor slam shut. 

Michael gets that this fight won’t end easy and that now he has to pack for himself. In their shared closet he finds his bag half packed. Ryan had started and probably quit in anger. Socks and underwear line the bottom of his bag and a few shirts are folded in a neat pile next to it but that’s it. 

He packs quickly and knows that this probably won’t be a fight he’ll win. Because he hates to lose, Michael briefly thinks of trying to sell the idea of New York to Talan without the influence of Ryan. He can guess that it would be a catastrophe. 

*

There are hundreds of families moving their kids into the dorms. There are so many people moving around that no one does a double take and no one recognizes Oliver.

For that Michael is grateful. 

Oliver had slept in the plane, curled up against a window covered by his hoodie. The flight attendant had seemed ecstatic to have him on board but Oliver hadn’t said a word to her. 

Michael stops as close as he can to Oliver’s dorm and parks the rented SUV amidst the chaos. Awake in the backseat Oliver peers out the tinted windows looking anxious and intimidated. 

“Can we park here?” Oliver asks and there’s a note of panic in his voice, “I don’t wanna like-” 

Get in trouble. Michael knows Oliver well enough to finish the sentence for him. 

“Sure.” Ryan dismisses Oliver’s worries. “Get out. Grab a box.” 

Ryan is the first one out of the car because crowds don’t bother him. Over the years Michael’s learned that Ryan never worries about who might be waiting to take a picture. Who might recognize him and who might ask him for a picture. 

Ryan has the trunk open and the first few plastic bins on the floor before Michael makes his way to the back of the car. 

“I know!” Ryan’s laughing along with another parent who’s pulling identical bins out of a similar car, “Too much stuff!” 

“I’m not an expert on the parking laws here but like a no parking sign means no parking.” Oliver tells Ryan still worried once he joins them, “They’re gonna tow us.” 

“Dude we’re cool.” Ryan insists, “Everyone else is parked here.”

Michael looks at Ryan with a pang because out of all the parents surrounding them Ryan absolutely does not look old enough to be dropping a kid off at college. For a second, while shooting off a lie to calm down Oliver as easily as he had once done for him, Ryan had looked nineteen. 

“I still don’t think we can park here.” Oliver looks around again. “There’s a sign.” 

“It’s different today.” Michael backs up Ryan. 

“I’m gonna go read the sign.” Oliver says looking at both of them skeptically before walking off. “Ask someone.”

“Stay with-” Michael calls out because the thought of Oliver venturing alone into the crowd is worrying. 

Oliver doesn’t hear or chooses not to listen and Michael is left alone with Ryan. 

“S’hard for him to deal.” Ryan decides, “Let him go.” 

Ryan’s shorts fall low on his hips and his t-shirt rides up when he reaches for another box. Michael regrets his short temper the night before, regrets threatening Ryan through the bathroom door. Regrets bringing up a plan he knows will never happen. 

Michael walks closer to trunk of the rented SUV until he’s crowding Ryan’s personal space. Until his hips are pressed against Ryan, his hand moving to stroke the inch of exposed skin. 

Ryan flinches away and Michael takes a step back before shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“We can’t move to New York.” Michael admits to Ryan. “I know.” 

Ryan ignores him. Grabs a bin and drops it on the ground. His muscles flex under his shirt and Michael wants to reach out to touch him again. He waits for Ryan to talk because Ryan always talks. Ryan’s never given him the silent treatment. 

“Ry.” Michael insists.

In New York Ryan had admitted how close he was to calling it quits. They’d promised to work on it. To spend the months after Oliver had left for college focusing on their relationship. 

“We’re not moving to New York.” Michael repeats, “I shouldn’t have said-” 

“We can’t fight here.” Ryan says with a strained voice. “I don’t want to fight.” 

“We don’t fight.” Michael agrees, his hand going back towards Ryan. “We’re good.” 

They usually forgive each other easy. 

“Ry-” Michael closes his hand around the back of Ryan’s neck.

Ryan drops the box he’s holding. It crashes to the ground before it topples sideways. The lid opens and a few of Oliver’s t-shirts roll out onto the pavement. Michael can see that nothing inside has been folded. All of this is unlike Ryan.

“Later.” Ryan says kneeling down to pick up Oliver’s shirts. “He’s gonna make us move the car.”

*

Oliver’s dorm suite is mostly empty. A dusty looking couch sits in the middle of the common area and an unplugged mini fridge is sparkling white against the worn hardwood floor. 

“I had like a bunk bed held up with milk crates.” Ryan points out as he drops the box he’s holding beside a large window and looks around. “Which one’s yours Gator?” 

Oliver scans the two closed doors until he sees his name in black marker on a lime green post it.

“That’s mine.” He points to the left. 

“Go check it out.” Ryan smiles at him, “We’ll be here.” 

Ryan is Ryan for Oliver but as soon as Oliver is out of the room Ryan seems to deflate a little. He toes the box closer to the wall and checks his phone. Michael guesses that talking to him is out of the question so he follows Oliver. 

There are two beds in the room and Oliver is standing between them, backpack in hand. 

“One by the window right?” Oliver asks taking a step closer to the bed further from the door, “That’s like a good choice?” 

“It’s you.” Michael says. 

“Yeah the window.” Oliver decides before dropping his backpack on the bare mattress. “Done.” 

*

Oliver hates unpacking. He’d lived out of his suitcase for most of his stay in Baltimore and had floundered at the idea of packing for Harvard without Ryan’s help. Now in his dormroom there are a dozen boxes to unpack and because they’d packed them in such a hurry Oliver has no idea where anything is. 

Oliver is sorting through his t-shirts when he hears Michael grab a new bin and open it. 

“What’s in it?” He asks trying to see. 

“Socks?” Michael calls out looking at the first layer of stuff in the box, “Drawer?” 

His dads are in all his stuff and Oliver feels his stress level rise. 

“Ok please.” Oliver looks around his half of the room anxiously, “That’s like my underwear I can do that.” 

The room is chaotic. His boxes are everywhere and his roommate’s boxes are also everywhere. Looking around the small room Oliver’s chest feel tight. 

He watches Michael put the lid back on the offending plastic bin and Ryan look up from making Oliver’s bed. 

“Give him the box with the shirts.” Ryan tells Oliver, “You do your underwear.” 

“No that’s not-” Oliver starts, “What I want. I just-” 

Oliver tries to take a deep breath but it doesn’t calm him down. He’s tired and has a headache from not drinking enough coffee. The room is too warm and already he’s caught a few people peering curiously at him. The whole day is overwhelming and now his dad had been about to touch his underwear. 

“Tell me what you want me to do.” Michael suggests, “We’re here to help Ols. What do you want?” 

Oliver chews his lip and looks around his room one more time. Ryan is still tucking sheets in.

“You need a break?” Michael suggests, “We can go grab some lunch or-” 

What Oliver wants is a break from the both of them. He wants to escape the awkward silence that fills his room and their forced cheeriness. He doesn’t know how to say it without hurting their feelings. 

“You want a break from us?” Michael suggests again like he can read Oliver’s mind.

Oliver nods. 

If his words hurt Michael’s feelings his dad doesn’t let it show. Instead Michael pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it to him. 

“Write down what you need from Target.” Michael tells him. “Dad an me will go.”

“Where we going?” Ryan looks up from the bed he’s just finished making, “What we forget?” 

“Nothing.” Oliver insists. 

He types down his list and eavesdrops to his dads whisper to each other. 

He needs hangers, a desk lamp, body wash, another pillow, an extra set of sheets, laundry detergent, dryer sheets, light bulbs and Band-Aid’s. 

“He’s typing his list.” Michael whispers, “We’ll go get lunch.” 

Then silence. 

“Jesus Ry.” Michael’s voice drops even lower, “Talk to me.” 

Cleaning wipes, lined paper, pens, a corkboard, a laundry bag, an extension cord- 

“Towels.” Ryan adds over his shoulder, “Garbage bags.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver agrees. 

“Coffee maker?” Ryan suggests, “So you won’t have to leave just for coffee.” 

“That would work.” Oliver nods before he hands the phone to Ryan who scans through the list before handing it to Michael. 

“We’ll bring back lunch.” Ryan squeezes his shoulder, “Don’t go crazy fixing this we got tomorrow too.” 

“Do one box at a time.” Michael suggests, “Go walk around if it’s-” 

“I’m good.” Oliver insists embarrassed by their concern, “I’m not gonna freak out it’s fine.” 

“Gator-” 

“I’m fine!” Oliver cuts Ryan off his tone a little brusquer than intended. 

After two weeks of being left mostly to himself the excessive hovering makes Oliver want to yell. 

He thinks of Ryan awake too late packing, of their middle of the night talk and of Ryan hugging him tight in the hospital even after he’d said awful things about him and feels immensely guilty. 

“I gotta call Tal.” Oliver says in a more gentle tone, “And if I don’t put my stuff away I won’t know where anything is.” 

“Maybe take a nap.” Ryan suggests, “Get something to eat.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver pacifies, “Maybe.”

“We’ll bring back lunch.” Michael calls out after he’s scanned Oliver’s list, “Call if you think of anything else.” 

“Ok yeah.” Oliver agrees, “I’m okay.” 

Ryan walks out first. Michael stays a few seconds longer before following him. Oliver can tell that both of them have more to say but he’s grateful that they don’t. He’s not ready to face goodbye speeches yet.

He’s left in his room with his roommate who’s sitting on his bed reading a book. 

“I thought my mom was bad.” His roommate says shaking his head, “No offense you got it way worse.” 

The subject of his parents has always put Oliver on the defensive. At school he’d learned quick that saying he had two dads didn’t always go well. Wanting to play house in kindergarten with another dad had gotten him strange looks from kids. 

He’d wanted a sleepover for his ninth birthday and out of the six kids invited only two had been allowed to come. 

At times, living with gay parents in Florida had sucked a lot. 

“They aren’t always like this.” Oliver defends his parents, “Just we got stuff going on so it’s extra bad.” 

“My mom put nametags in all my stuff.” The roommate admits, “Like I’m going to camp.” 

Oliver laughs. 

“I know you’re like…” His roommate starts, “That’s cool. I’m Jake.” 

“Oliver.” Oliver fills in. “Ols.” 

“You’re the guy from Florida right?” Jake guesses, “I got the email.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver suspects Jake already knows the answer but he decides to play along. 

“Winter’s going to suck for you.” Jake lets out a low whistle, “You’ve seen snow right?”

“Um yeah.” Oliver rolls his eyes. “I’m half from Baltimore.”

“I’m from Vermont.” Jake offers, “My brother’s like-” 

Jake points to a framed family picture on his desk and jabs a finger at the person in the middle of the group. He’s vaguely familiar. 

“Danny.” Jake prompts, “He’s a freestyle skier. Olympics. He won-” 

The family picture is from the Olympics. Jake’s family standing in front of a giant set of Olympic rings. His brother Danny in his issued Olympic gear and his parents in identical American flag sweaters. 

Oliver can’t remember taking a family picture in Rotterdam. 

“Yeah I remember.” Oliver fills in.

“I don’t like tell people but you like won’t care.” Jake shrugs, “I don’t ski.” 

“Me neither.” Oliver agrees. 

“I play water polo.” Jake offers, “You should try it.” 

“I’m not doing pools.” Oliver admits. 

“That sucks.” Jake tells him pointedly, “If we had a team we’d kill it. I’d teach you.” 

Oliver thinks of his last time in a pool. Of how he’d remembered swimming after Talan and getting swallowed up by a wave. He can’t imagine what would happen if it happened in public. If he had to be Oliver Phelps-Lochte the Olympic gold medal winning swimmer who can’t swim. 

“Maybe volleyball?” Jake asks, “We gotta find something.” 

“We can find lunch.” Oliver suggests. “I’m starving.” 

“Yeah!” Jake grins in a way that reminds Oliver of Talan, “Sold!” 

Oliver forgets his boxes. He grabs his phone and his keys and follows Jake out of their dorm to go explore the campus. 

He’s been here once before, when he’d toured the university with his parents months ago. When they’d talked to him about the swim team and he’d still been interested.

Walking through the masses of people getting settled in it sinks in that this is real. That he’s at Harvard. That he made it. 

It might mean more than Rotterdam. 

Jake seems to know where he’s walking so Oliver follows him.

“What classes you taking?” Jake asks as they walk off campus and down the street. 

“A lot of math.” Oliver laughs, “Want to declare mech eng.” 

“I want to go to law school.” Jake says, “My dad’s a lawyer.” 

“My dads have been like retired my whole life.” Oliver replies, “They do like clinics and stuff. Interviews but they’re home a lot. Like all the time.” 

“You could do that too.” Jake tells him, “Just keep training. Danny’s doing it.” 

“I don’t want to just be a swimmer.” Oliver reveals something he hasn’t really let himself tell anyone. 

“I get it.” Jake nods, “I don’t just wanna be Danny’s brother.” 

Oliver doesn’t usually have these kinds of conversations with people who are basically strangers but he has to live with Jake for the next year. Jake is the first person he meets who hadn’t been part of Rotterdam and who hadn’t been part of Talan’s accident. 

They find the restaurant Jake had been looking for, a hot dog place with a lineup out the door. 

“It’s worth it.” Jake insists, “My dad says.” 

While they’re waiting in line Oliver tries to call Talan. His cellphone rings uselessly for a few seconds before Oliver hears that Talan hasn’t set up his voicemail. He tries to call two more times before his aunt picks up. 

“He’s sleeping.” She says, “He’ll call you back.”

Oliver doesn’t want to talk to his aunt and he doesn’t want to talk about how Talan is doing. He’d just wanted to talk to Talan because he misses him. Had Talan been with them at Harvard things would have been different. Oliver misses how things had been suppose to go. He should be waiting in line for hot dogs with Talan. 

“Ok thanks.” Oliver says, “Bye.” 

He doesn’t give her a chance to talk and knows it’s probably a bit rude. He answers a text from Ryan about what kind of body wash he wants before dropping his phone in the pockets of his cargo shorts. 

Jake is still on his phone and he hangs up when there are only two people in front of them in line. 

“You got a girlfriend?” Jake asks, “Mine’s home. I don’t know. S’hard already like…” 

“Kinda.” Oliver lies, “My best friend but we don’t really know. We were broken up but last night we kinda decided to try again. He’s at UF.” 

Oliver lets the pronoun slip testily and it gets zero reaction from Jake. 

“My dad says you want the one with hot peppers but there’s mustard. I hate mustard.” Jake says, “This is hard.”

“There’s one with potato chips.” Oliver notes, “That one wins.” 

“Hey!” The cashier’s face flashes with recognition when Oliver steps up to order, “You’re-” 

Oliver freezes and forgets his order. It suddenly feels like everyone is starring at him. 

“If he is do we get free hot dog?” Jake says from behind him. 

“No.” The cashier blurts out, “But-” 

“He’s not. Yeah sorry bummer.” Jake pushes two cans of orange soda past the register for her to scan, “Four of the ones with bacon?” 

Jake pays and carries their tray to a table in the corner. 

“Thing is.” Jake says as he chews through his first bite of hot dog, “Most people are stupid. Like I don’t know. Once you say you’re not they get embarrassed. Danny wrecked his knee after Switzerland and he was bummed out so we lied a ton. It’s like nothing. If you want people to like kiss your ass though I can freak out along with them. Fake passing out?” 

“No I hate it.” Oliver says, “Thanks.” 

“So.” Jake takes a long drink from his pop can, “If I’m talking about like intramural water polo that doesn’t count for shit except bragging rights. How against pools are you?” 

“How d’you play?” Oliver asks, “Maybe I don’t hate pools so much.” 

“There’s balls involved you’ll love it.” Jake blurts out. “We’re so gonna win.”

“I like winning.” Oliver says. 

*

It takes most of the day and a second trip to Target to get Oliver unpacked and settled in. By the end of the day all three of them head to their hotel sweaty and exhausted. 

In the backseat of the SUV Oliver is more interested in his phone than either of them. As a result the car is deathly quiet. 

At the hotel, Ryan immediately heads to shower and Oliver heads into the room adjoining theirs. He leaves the door between the two rooms open a few inches and seconds later Michael hears a baseball game blasting from the television. 

No one has talked in the past twenty minutes and Michael doesn’t know what to do. He picks up the television remote and settles on the bed. He tries to listen to what Oliver’s doing but only hears the television. 

He decides to go watch television with Oliver but Oliver is on his phone. 

He goes back to his room and unzips his bag to look for a change of clothes. 

Ryan has left his phone on the dresser next to the television and Michael walks past it twice before he watches the screen light up with message alerts. 

Most of them are from Talan, a few are from Kristin but the one near the top is from Caleb. 

“Tal’s fine babe. Misses you.” 

Michael’s stomach drops. 

He hears the shower stop and realizes that he’s essentially spying on Ryan. Something he’s never done before. He drops the phone and it starts to ring before it hits the dresser. Talan’s face fills up the screen.

“You’re not Dad.” Talan protests before Michael can get a word in. 

“He’s in the shower.” Michael explains, trying to make his voice sound normal. “He’ll be out soon.”

“You should be looking at my face.” Talan informs him, “I’m staring at like your ear. It’s dark.” 

“Sorry Tal.” Michael apologizes, bringing his phone up to his face to let his son look at him. “What’s up?” 

“No one’s answering their phone.” Talan complains, “Ols won’t either.” 

“Everyone’s busy Tal.” Michael explains. 

“You love me.” Talan points out, “You answered.” 

“Yeah Baby.” Michael smiles, “How’s your day?” 

“I had physio now I’m done.” Talan sums up, “I can put weight on my arm so I can wheel myself around. They tried to have me make breakfast from the chair. Can you like send a note and say you don’t let me touch the stove cause I make fires happen? I don’t even eat eggs.”

Michael watches Talan grimace and laughs despite knowing that Talan is probably dead serious. He can imagine Talan sitting defiant in front of his therapist insisting that learning to cook an egg from his wheelchair is a skill he’ll never need. 

“Do it please.” Talan insist. “Do you know how they get eggs from chickens? Chickens are really smart. They like hurt their wings and they get infections. I’m not eating an egg.” 

It’s almost like Talan had sensed his despair because thirty seconds of talking to his youngest son lifts Michael’s mood considerably. 

“I’ll talk to them.” Michael promises, “You won’t have to cook an egg.” 

“Or eat it.” Talan adds, “That one too. 

“They know you don’t eat meat.” Michael reminds him. 

“Ok good.” Talan says relieved, “I told ‘em. I had chicken nuggets last night though but uncle Caleb brought like food he made. That was better.”

The bathroom door opens and Ryan emerges fully dressed. Michael is momentarily distracted from Talan mentioning Caleb.

“That Baby?” Ryan asks hopeful.

It’s the first time Ryan’s willingly talked to him all day. Even their Target trip had been painfully quiet. 

“Yeah it’s Talan!” Talan calls out. 

Ryan invades Michael’s space, cramming himself next to him so Talan can see both their faces on his screen.

“Hey.” Ryan says. “I was in the shower.” 

“I know.” Talan says impatiently. “I got it.”

“Wanna talk to Dad?” Michael offers. 

“What did you eat for dinner?” Ryan asks. 

“They gave me chicken nuggets.” Talan repeats his tale of injustice to Ryan, “But uncle Caleb came with food. Like some kind of chickpea thing. It was okay.” 

Michael watches Ryan who doesn’t show any sign that he’s been caught. 

“He brought muffins too.” Talan adds, “No eggs.” 

Ryan slides down closer to Michael and reaches out to make Michael tip the phone closer to him. 

“Did you eat enough?” Ryan asks. 

It’s the first time they talk to Talan that day. They’d been so busy dealing with Ols that calling Talan had slipped their mind. 

“I want to talk to Oliver.” Talan reveals, seemingly unbothered by the lack of contact. “He called and I’m calling him back.” 

“Talan.” Ryan refuses the request, “How was physio?” 

“Take me to him.” Talan gives his last words like a command before he laughs at himself. 

“I got painkillers.” He admits. 

“Why?” Ryan speaks up, “What happened?” 

“No Oliver.” Talan insists, “Oliver. You’re not fair I’m like prisoner in your phone an you won’t lemme go where I want.”

“Go.” Ryan tells Michael, rolling his eyes at Talan’s dramatics, “We’ll get him after.” 

“Yes.” Talan agrees, “Dad go.”

Michael walks the short distance into Oliver’s room turning his phone so Talan can face forward. 

“Put the volume up all the way.” Talan asks, “So he can hear.” 

Michael puts the volume up. 

“I ain’t gonna pretend my feelings aren’t hurt.” Talan says as soon as he sees Oliver, “Like I wanna be there.” 

“What?” Oliver says looking up from his own phone.

Oliver looks confused until he spots Talan’s face on the screen of Michael’s phone. He shakes his head at his brother. 

“You called me one time.” Talan complains, “I was waiting.” 

“I tried calling he was sleeping.” Oliver defends himself, “He hurt MY feelings.” 

“I get like super tired.” Talan defends himself, “Like I can’t think I just need to-” 

“That’s the painkillers.” Oliver rolls his eyes, “You’re high.” 

“Show me around.” Talan requests. ignoring Oliver’s accusations. “Is it small? Bet it smells.” 

“We’re at the hotel.” Oliver points out. “You missed it.” 

“I missed it because you didn’t call.” Talan reminds him. 

“I called you were sleeping.” Oliver repeats, “Then you didn’t call back.” 

“Bet it smells.” Talan decides. “Are there girls? D’you tell your roommate I’m your best friend?” 

“Oliver.” Michael sighs, “Just take my phone.”

“I’m talking to Evan.” Oliver holds out his own phone, “I can’t.” 

“Call Evan back.” Talan says, “Talk to me.”

Oliver balks. He looks up at Michael for help holding out his own phone pleadingly. 

“Ols can call you back.” Michael explains turning his phone to look at Talan, “Tomorrow so you can see his dorm?” 

“Whatever.” Talan rolls his eyes, “Get out before they start being gross.”

“Shut up.” Oliver calls out. 

“He shouldn’t be mad at me.” Talan tells Michael, “I’m in the hospital.”

“He needs to stop using that.” Oliver rolls his eyes. 

Michael decides to end their fight. 

“He’ll call you back.” Michael says as he walks back into the other room to Ryan, “Talk to Dad.” 

Michael throws the phone to Ryan who’s sitting back on the bed watching the same baseball game as Oliver. 

“I’m gonna shower.” He tells him, “Talk to Talan.” 

With the volume still high on the phone Michael can hear Talan give Ryan the same sob story about his cooking lesson. He laughs as he turns on the shower. 

“Can you tell Aunt Kristin though?” Talan’s voice rings out over the shower and the fan, “She scares me kinda.” 

Michael gets in the shower, shampoos his hair and thinks of the text message again. His chest feels tight. 

 

*

Oliver spends most of the next day at orientation. 

Ryan and Michael walk through campus side by side. 

Ryan hadn’t been able to get into bed with Michael. He’d watched television and returned emails until Oliver’s quiet mumbling had turned into calls of distress. He’d fallen asleep in the second bed in Oliver’s room.

“It’s nice.” Michael points out as they walk past a library.

“Yeah.” Ryan nods in agreement, “He loves it.”

“Talan misses him.” Michael says, “That’s going to be hard.”

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees again, “I miss him too.”

Ryan’s done everything he can to make sure Oliver is ready and now that all of Oliver’s things are unpacked. That Oliver has snacks in his desk drawers, a new desk lamp, towels and two extra sets of sheets it doesn’t feel like enough. 

“I got his tickets for Thanksgiving.” Michael admits. “We can come see him when Talan’s home. Even if Tal’s in a wheelchair we can get him around.” 

“I just-” It’s hard for Ryan to imagine Talan only in a wheelchair. 

“We got to meet him where he’s at.” Michael repeats the words Talan’s physiotherapist had spoken at their last meeting before they’d left, “If he’s in a wheelchair we bring him in a wheelchair.”

It’s hard for Ryan to reconcile this Michael with the one who’d yelled at him through the bathroom door in Florida. 

*

They have a mixer that evening and it’s clear to see that Oliver is worried about it. 

Oliver fixes his tie a dozen times at the hotel and another half a dozen on their way into the building. He hangs back for a second and keeps close to Ryan. 

As he watches people turn around to stare at his son Ryan half feels like he’s sending Oliver into a pack of hungry lions. 

“Ready?” He quietly asks Oliver keeping on of his hands firmly clasped on Oliver’s shoulder. “We can get you out.” 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head, “It’s Harvard I gotta do this.” 

Ryan hangs back and shakes hand with people who are far more interested in Oliver. He grabs two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and hands one to Michael. 

Michael is awkwardly listening to a man talk about growing hydroponic crops and Oliver is a little further off surrounded by a group of people. Oliver and Michael both have the same awkwardly polite smile on their face. 

Ryan chooses to save Oliver first. Walks up to him, forces himself into the conversation and pulls Oliver away. 

“Who was that?” Ryan asks once Oliver is a safe distance away from the group. 

“The swim coach.” Oliver answers shortly, “Said he talked to grandpa.” 

“You told Bowman you were done swimming.” Ryan states. 

“I did.” Oliver confirms, “I don’t know he said-” 

“You don’t want to swim.” Ryan gets angry. “You were never swimming here.” 

“I know that!” Oliver defends himself, “It’s not me-” 

Ryan wants to take Oliver home. 

“I got you your Coke.” Michael walks up to them and hands Oliver a glass, “But I got held up.” 

Michael looks from Oliver to Ryan and forgets to hand the glass of pop to Oliver. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, looking concerned. 

“Dad’s mad the swimming coach talked to me.” Oliver says. 

“What did he want?” Michael asks a question Ryan hadn’t thought of. 

“He said good job.” Oliver shrugs, “That if I wanted to swim he’d find me a lane. Gave me his info.” 

Oliver holds out the business card like it’s contraband. Like he’s just been caught doing something bad. 

“He’s a swimmer Ryan.” Michael points out, finally remember to give Oliver his glass, “The coach is going to want to-” 

“He doesn’t want to swim.” Ryan snaps not in the mood to be belittled again. “He told us.”

Ryan hates that his temper is so short. He’s usually able to let Michael’s dumb comments roll over him. He doesn’t want to have another fight in front of Oliver. 

He’s genuinely enraged though that Oliver is being accosted by anyone when Harvard had assured both of them that Oliver would be treated like any other student. That he’d melt right in, that they understood he didn’t want to swim.

“It’s stupid for him to close doors.” Michael keeps talking, “He’s seventeen he can have another three Olympics if he-” 

“Wants to.” Ryan finishes for his husband, “And he don’t.”

“I’m right here.” Oliver reminds them, “so you can-” 

“Ry.” Michael warns, “Stop.”

“You stop too.” Oliver warns back, “God.” 

“He doesn’t want to swim.” Ryan reminds Michael while ignoring an enraged looking Oliver. “And we’re being schmoozed by-” 

“We’re in public.” Oliver reminds them, “People can hear.” 

“What if he just wants to practice? Go swim to clear-” 

“No.” Oliver speaks over both of them, “I’m not swimming.” 

*

Michael had never taken Oliver’s decision to stop swimming seriously. Knowing his kid he’d dismissed Oliver’s decision as a rash decision fuelled by exhaustion. He’d never really thought Oliver meant it.

He’d never let himself admit that he didn’t want Oliver to stop. 

“Okay.” Ryan says like he’s trying to get everyone to focus again, “We can just-” 

“Oliver!” Another man comes over and claps Oliver on the back like they’re old friends, “We are so proud of you. You really made Harvard proud.”

Ryan’s first reaction is to pull Oliver away. Michael watches Ryan slip an arm around Oliver’s shoulder and pull him back before switching places with him. Putting himself between Oliver and the stranger.

Michael’s first reaction is to fume because Oliver had in no way won any medals for Harvard.

“And your father!” The man reaches for Michael’s hand, “No hard feelings I’m sure. We’re all so happy he’s one of us now he-” 

Michael isn’t sure what hard feelings he’s supposed to have about Oliver choosing Harvard but he laughs nervously anyways. 

“Have you met my husband?” Michael points to Ryan using his age old trick of forcing Ryan and his extrovert stranger loving personality into conversations to allow himself to tap out. 

This time Michael hates to admit that he does it partly to prevent Ryan from walking away with Oliver. 

“Ryan.” Ryan says holding out his hand.

“Lochte.” Oliver adds in.

Ryan doesn’t pick up the conversation and the silence is awkward. 

“Had a scare you wouldn’t come.” The man ribs Oliver, unbothered by the silence “Word out of admission said you changed your mind last minute. We were going to consider kidnapping.”

“I’m here.” Oliver offers and his voice sounds like he’s being interviewed. Like he’s waiting to cut to commercial so he can escape. His smile is fake. He blinks too much.

“Got any of those medals with you?” 

“No.” Oliver answers clearly uncomfortable. “They’re-”

“In a safety deposit box.” Michael lies knowing fully well that Oliver’s medals are in a plastic deli bag on the kitchen island of their New York apartment. 

“Right, right.” The man says, “Can’t have the house rival the national reserve.” 

Michael hears Ryan let out a fake laugh and for a second he misses him so much it hurts. He misses their dumb inside jokes and making fun of people together. He tries to sneak an arm behind Oliver to reach for him but Ryan side steps to grab a drink of from a passing waiter. 

“What a dick.” Oliver says once the man leaves, “I wanna leave.” 

“Let’s go back to the hotel Bud.” Michael suggests, “Figure out-” 

“Nah.” Oliver refuses, “I want to go back to my dorm. My roomates are there. I gotta call Evan.” 

“You can stay with us Ols.” Michael offers again, “That was the plan.”

“No. I want to stay here.” Oliver’s mind is made up, “We got it all ready. I’m okay.” 

“Ols. Your dad and me didn’t-”

“I’m not mad.” Oliver insists, “I just want to be here. I don’t need to stay with you guys.”

Oliver’s first day of school had been cause for great anxiety. In the weeks leading up to it, Michael and Ryan had fretted over every detail. They’d let Oliver pick out a backpack and a lunch box. They’d bought him three glue sticks, a pair of scissors, two boxes of 64 Crayola crayons and gym shoes. They’d packed him a change of clothes and met Oliver’s teacher. 

The big day had come and while Michael and Ryan had been emotional wrecks Oliver had calmly walked into his class, put his backpack away in his neatly labeled cubby and settled at a station with building blocks. He’d been completely unaware that his parents were standing five feet away emotionally scarred their kid hadn’t even bothered to look back at them. 

“Dad.” Oliver’s voice brings Michael back to earth, “It’s okay.” 

“Mike.” Ryan’s hand is on his arm, “We can walk him back.” 

They leave the event without being stopped by anyone else. Michael takes a sip of Ryan’s second drink as they walk out and discovers it’s only soda. Comforted by the fact he slips one of his arms around Ryan’s waist before wrapping the other around Oliver’s shoulders. Neither of his people move away from him. 

Ryan and him have raised a kid who is now attending Harvard. In spite of the pain Michael is so proud he could burst. 

They wait while Oliver searches for his keys and fights to unlock the door. Once it’s opened he turns back to look at them. 

Michael hadn’t been sure about being a dad. Oliver hadn’t felt real to him until he’d been in his arms snuggled against his chest. Oliver had been the first person Michael had loved more than himself. Oliver had focused his life. Oliver had changed everything. Oliver had always been his person.

He doesn’t want to cry in front of Oliver. 

“I put the extra blankets with your coats.” Ryan offers, “If it’s cold.”

“It’s like way warm.” Oliver laughs, “I’m okay.”

“We’re going to be at the hotel.” Michael struggles to keep his voice normal, “Call if you need-” Me is the last word Michael doesn’t say. 

“I know.” Oliver agrees, “I call, you answer.” 

“Got everything Gator?” Ryan asks.

“Do you have cash?” Michael thinks of before pulling out his wallet.

“Dad, I have money.” Oliver answers, “I’m really okay.” 

“If you want to order food.” Michael folds a stack of bills in half and slips it into Oliver’s pocket. 

“Okay.” Oliver agrees, “Thanks.” 

“We don’t leave until tomorrow afternoon so we can do breakfast?” Michael suggests, “We’ll come pick you up.” 

Oliver nods through a yawn and Michael knows they’re just stalling now. 

“Night Bud.” Michael reaches forward and quickly kisses the side of Oliver’s head, “Proud of you.” 

He forces himself to step back to let Ryan closer to Oliver. 

“We love you Gator.” Ryan adds hugging Oliver hard, Michael sees Oliver rest his chin against Ryan’s shoulder and close his eyes. “Call if you’re scared.”

“I’m okay.” Oliver says again, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

They’ve left Oliver alone before. They’d left him at training camps, at Debbie’s and in the care of USA Swimming. This is harder though. This feels different.

“This sucks.” Ryan says kicking rocks as they walk back to their rental car, “Was suppose to be happy.” 

“He’s not happy.” Michael agrees, “If Tal was here-” 

“We’d be happy.” Ryan finishes, “Yeah.” 

“How was he?” Michael asks, acknowledging that Ryan is fully talking to him again. Not wanting to go back to the awful silence. Not wanting to think of the text messages from Caleb.

“Sleeping.” Ryan admits, “Didn’t get to talk to him.” 

“He’s fine Ry.” Michael reassures. 

“Ols is fine too.” Ryan points out, “I kicked my dad out of my dorm.”

They don’t talk about their fights. They don’t talk about swimming. Michael doesn’t try to put his hand around Ryan again. 

“He’s just gotta figure out how to be Oliver again.” Ryan explains, “We gotta let him.” 

Once they’re at the hotel they call Talan and watch television with him until he falls asleep. Talan is doing better but he clearly misses them. Clearly needs them back. 

Michael gets into bed first and watches Ryan stall. 

Ryan showers, brushes his teeth and flosses. He packs his bag, packs Oliver’s bag and starts packing Michael’s things. He checks under the bed and in the drawers and checks his phone. 

“I’m not tired.” Ryan finally admits, “I’m gonna go for a walk.” 

“We don’t have to sleep.” Michael suggests. 

“I need air.” Ryan insists. 

“If you don’t want to sleep with me just say it.” Michael challenges. 

“I-” Ryan starts. 

“Just say it.” Michael repeats, “Then go sleep in Ols room again or on the couch or-” 

His words are met with silence. Ryan doesn’t even move. 

Michael had guessed Ryan’s answer before he’d even asked the question but the truth still stings. 

“I got nothing.” Ryan admits his voice rough, “I got Tal calling and Oliver flipping out and unpacking and I can’t sleep I can’t- I’m like… Got nothing.” 

“Left for me.” Michael finishes. 

“Yeah.” Ryan admits.

*

The next morning is quiet.

They have breakfast with Oliver and conversation is short. Oliver looks tired and Ryan and Michael aren’t speaking to each other. It’s awkward and Ryan feels horrible for Oliver because Oliver deserves better.

Once they drop Oliver back at his dorm, Ryan hangs back in the hallway to give Michael time alone with their kid. Once Michael walks out of Oliver’s room and makes a beeline for the exit with his head down Ryan walks in. 

Oliver is wiping tears off his face. 

“Gator.” Ryan hugs him, “This is good.”

But Ryan feels his own composure breaking. He hugs Oliver even tighter. 

“If you got trouble doin’ your laundry maybe you call me not dad yeah?” Ryan jokes to try and make his kid laugh. “Dad doesn’t do laundry.”

Oliver laughs against his shoulder but doesn’t pull away. Ryan leans his head against Oliver’s trying to comfort him. 

Once Oliver pulls away, Ryan reaches down to wipe tears off his son’s face. 

“Shit Gator.” Ryan reaches for him, “I’ll take you back home, no big deal.”

“No.” Oliver steps back from the hug so he’s back inside his dorm, “I wanna stay.” 

Ryan’s arm is still outstretched, his fingers hanging onto the side of his oldest son’s t-shirt. 

“I’m proud.” Ryan tells him, “You gonna be good?” 

“Yeah.” Oliver reassures and he’s stopped crying for real this time. 

“So like I’ve never told anyone this.” Ryan makes a show of looking around the room like he’s about to reveal a state secret, “But if some asshole at a frat party tries to make you drink beer outa Frisbee you don’t gotta. Bring like a bowl.” 

“What?” Oliver says but he laughs. 

“Don’t let people jerk you around.” Ryan re-explains, “You’re awesome.” 

Oliver nods. 

“Do you need cash?” Ryan asks pulling out his wallet. 

“No Dad gave me like-” Oliver starts explaining. 

Ryan is already pulling money out of his wallet, folding it in two and handing it out to Oliver who doesn’t take it. Ryan, like Michael the night before, shoves it in the pocket of Oliver’s shorts. 

Eventually he has to walk away and leave Oliver here and he hasn’t figured out how that’s going to happen yet. 

Oliver’s birth had been the best day of his life. 

“Your meal plans all figured out.” Ryan explains like Oliver might not know how college works. Ryan just needs to talk to stop thinking, “Don’t put your like hoodies in the dryer they get all messed up. If you drink call a cab. Don’t get in a car with someone who’s drinking-” 

“I know.” Oliver smiles at the influx of life advice.

“If they try to get you to swim call me.” Ryan warns. “Don’t let ‘em bully you. You don’t owe nothing to them.” 

“What if they kidnap me and throw me in?” Oliver jokes. 

“Swim out. Call.” Ryan repeats. 

“I got stranger danger.” Oliver reminds him, “I’ll lock my door.” 

Oliver is alone in his room, Ryan has no idea where his roommate is but he figures his time alone with Oliver won’t last much longer. He looks around the room which had been bare two days ago but which was now filled with all of Oliver’s favourite things.

“You got a coat.” Ryan reminds him, “Wear it if it’s cold.” 

“Got it.” Oliver agrees, “I’ll throw on some mittens too.” 

Ryan figures they’ve done their best getting him settled. He can’t imagine Oliver needing anything. 

 

“I’m good.” Oliver pushes the money Ryan had handed him further into his pocket, “I’m probably gonna get robbed.”

“Condoms.” Ryan calls out, “Shit.”

“What?” Oliver grimaces

“I wanted to get you-” Ryan stammers frustrated to have forgotten. 

“I got some.” Oliver insists, embarrassed “I’m good.”

“Use them.” Ryan doesn’t drop the subject, “Guy. Girl. Doesn’t matter.”

Ryan had found a box of condoms in his sock drawer his second day at UF. He’d never brought it up with his dad. 

“Got it.” Oliver quickly agrees. “We’ve had this talk already I don’t need like the refresher class I-” 

Oliver looks mortified and Ryan doesn’t blame him but Ryan isn’t about to stop. 

“And um…” Ryan hesitates, giving advice he’d learned from someone other than his dad much later in life. “Flush them yourself. Don’t leave them in trashcans or-” 

“Ok that’s gross.” Oliver grimaces. 

“You’re famous.” Ryan reminds him, “Girls might try-” 

“How? No. Gross.” Oliver shakes his head. “Stop.” 

Ryan remembers the advice he’d given Oliver on his first day of kindergarten. To be nice to other kids, to share toys, to put his shoes on the right feet and to eat his pudding cup after his sandwich. 

“If you’re gonna get drunk be with people you trust.” Ryan keeps talking, advice pouring out of him, “Or don’t drink. Don’t sleep with drunk girls. Don't drink shit you didn't make yourself and if there’s nothing go with a beer as long if it's closed. Don’t smoke. If you’re gonna though don’t take shit from people you don’t know. If you need help you gotta ask. Your RA or a teacher or call us. Call me. Call someone but- ” 

“What?” Oliver picks up the pen he’d been handed at his orientation, “Do I have to take notes?” 

“I don’t know.” Ryan admits, “I just want you to be-” 

“I’ll be fine.” Oliver says, “I got it.”

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees.

All of a sudden the reality of the situation sinks in. They’re leaving, Oliver is staying here and they’re not coming back to pick him up in a week. Oliver is grown up and a college student. They probably won’t see him until Thanksgiving. 

“If you can’t sleep tell us.” Ryan says more seriously, “That messes you up fast you know it.” 

Oliver nods. 

“Happy?” Ryan asks because it’s the only important thing. 

“Yeah.” Oliver nods. 

“Okay.” Ryan says reaching to hug Oliver again, “Get really smart.” 

Oliver laughs.

“Make friends. Don’t just eat junk.” Ryan babbles on.

“I know.” Oliver agrees, “You guys are gonna miss the plane.” 

Ryan looks at his watch and Oliver is right. Their time is up. 

“We’re still home.” Ryan tells Oliver and his voice waivers, “We always answer your number.” 

“Dad it’s okay.” Oliver says. “I know.” 

“Call a lot.” Ryan says pulling Oliver into another hug and kissing his son’s cheek, “Love you.” 

Oliver hangs on tight for a second and then lets go. 

“Later Gator.” Ryan smiles before he forces himself to walk away. 

He walks slow and waits for Oliver to call out for him. He gives his son the chance to catch up and beg to go home. When Ryan’s out of the dorm and walking towards the patch of grass where Michael is sitting he knows that Oliver isn’t going to call out. Oliver isn’t going to chase after him and ask to go home. 

*  
In his wheelchair Talan tries to move fast enough to avoid being caught by one of the nurses. He ducks his head trying to make himself less noticeable. He keeps his eyes on his cellphone to follow Oliver’s guided tour of Harvard. 

“It’s like bigger than I thought.” Talan says to Oliver once Oliver’s finished showing him his dorm room. 

“That’s what she said.” Oliver laughs. 

“No it’s nice.” Talan insists, ignoring his brother’s dumb joke. “Like I thought it be tiny I was worried.” 

“Nah don’t worry.” Oliver tells him. “You can move around?” 

Talan keeps his phone on his lap as he slowly wheels himself down his hallway and outside the doors of the rehab ward. The tiny bit of freedom he’s allowed to have means a lot. 

“Kinda.” Talan says, “I get super tired.” 

“Then stop.” Oliver urges, “Take a break.” 

“I want the windows.” Talan reveals his plan, “They got big ones by the elevators.” 

Talan’s tired of his hospital room. He’s tired of not being able to go outside. He’s tired of being touched and he’s tired of painkillers. He’s tired of people worrying about him. 

“Is your food good?” Talan asks, “Food here sucks.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver nods, “It’s okay. There’s ice cream.”

“I get like chickpeas.” Talan complains, “Uncle Caleb made me eat tofu like why-” 

“Baby stop.” Oliver calls out.

Talan is winded. He stops pushing himself for a second to rest. He’s twenty feet away from his destination and knows he probably won’t make it. 

“Ok yeah.” Talan agrees, “No windows.” 

“What d’you do if you need help?” Oliver asks concerned, “Does someone know where you are?” 

“Someone always knows.” Talan complains, “I think they got like a tracker on me.” 

Talan can tell Oliver is worried. He figures that he hasn’t yet re-earned the right to be a punk about his safety. 

“I got my own nurse.” Talan informs his brother, “She knows where I went, she’s coming to get me in ten minutes.” 

Admitting his own lack of freedom is humiliating and it definitely bums Talan out. 

“You can like do anything though right?” Talan asks, the freedom of college sounding like maybe the best thing in the world, “Like Dads don’t even need to know where you are you can just go.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver says. “I guess.” 

“Dude.” Talan says enviously, “Awesome.” 

“Awesome.” Oliver mimics Talan. 

Talan pushes himself a few more feet determined to get to the windows before his freedom is taken away. 

“Were Dads crying?” Talan asks.

Oliver doesn’t answer this and Talan guesses that they probably did. 

“Yeah now it’s just them and me.” Talan rolls his eyes, “Thanks.” 

He peers down at his phone and watches Oliver sit back on his bed and pull out a book. 

“You can do anything you want and you’re there reading?” Talan says outraged, “There’s like parties.” 

“Not tonight.” Oliver tells him. 

“It’s college.” Talan replies.

“I’m tired.” Oliver explains almost like he’s apologizing. “Wanted to call you.” 

“Well that was a good choice.” Talan cheers, “I was bored.”

Talan stops five feet from the windows and decides that this is good enough. He turns around to face the glass and stares outside. 

“It’s gonna storm.” He tells Oliver looking at the dark clouds coming in, “Hope Dads don’t get delayed.” 

“They won’t.” Oliver comforts, “They were pretty worried about you.” 

“I’m fine.” Talan insists. “Look I made it all the way. I got a surprise for them too. I worked super hard.”   
“You’re good you should come visit.” Oliver says, “I’ll push you around.” 

“Yeah?” Thinking of escaping the hospital cheers Talan up considerably, “Take me to your classes?” 

“Yeah the kid in the wheelchair won’t stand out.” Oliver laughs, “We’ll totally get away with it.” 

“I’m like sensitive about this.” Talan points to the wheelchair, “So don’t.” 

Talan’s on a high floor. He watches cars move in and out of the parking lot and down the street. Watches people sit in the cafeteria patio outside and the lights of other buildings. He goes quiet and waits for Oliver to talk. 

“You go home soon though.” Oliver states like it’s a fact and not a question, “Then you can come.” 

“Yeah.” Talan agrees, “Or you can come back. I kinda need you.”

The last thing Talan wants to do because he gets that the pressure on Oliver is huge. Understands that the last few weeks have been tough on his brother. He hadn’t even gotten a real goodbye. 

“Just used to you being there like…” Talan tries to recover, “Therapy’s hard but last time you came and it was easier.” 

It’s unfair to ask but it’s been bothering Talan for days. He’d been on pain pills when Oliver had left and hadn’t gotten a real goodbye. 

“You want me to come back?” Oliver asks. 

“No. Shit. Sorry.” He picks his phone off his lap and holds it up to his face. “I miss you but you gotta stay. What you gonna do at home?”

Oliver is quiet and Talan feels awful. 

“Soon as dads let me go I’ll go see you.” Talan promises, “You can take me to a party and not be lame and stay in your room reading a book.” 

“There aren’t parties tonight.” Oliver insists, “No one’s out I’m just-” 

“You didn’t answer my questions about girls.” Talan reminds him. 

“There’s girls.” Oliver answers. 

Talan wheels himself closer to the window. Close enough to touch the glass. It’s warm against his palm and the sky has definitely gotten darker. The clouds are looming heavy and ominous.

“Dads are gonna be delayed.” Talan sighs. “I miss ‘em.” 

“They’ll be there soon.” Oliver comforts, “Maybe go back to your room?” 

It’s clear that Oliver worries and Talan hates it. 

“I got like three minutes before she comes looking for me.” Talan shrugs off Oliver’s suggestion. 

“Dads are gonna make it.” Oliver comforts, “I just checked their flight, it’s on time.” 

“Right.” Talan hadn’t thought of checking for flights, “Thanks.” 

“You can call me when you’re at Physio and I’ll try and be on the phone.” Oliver offers, “If it helps.” 

“It’s just hard to think I’ll get there you know?” Talan admits something he hasn’t even allowed himself to say in therapy.

“Dude you will.” Oliver says encouragingly, a lot kinder than they usually are to each other. 

“There you are Talan.” His nurse’s voice calls out across the hallway, “You said-” 

“Shit.” Talan drops Oliver on his lap again, “Busted.” 

“If you need me call.” Oliver urges, “If it’s bad I’ll come home.”

Talan cranes his neck to watch his nurse speed walk towards him. She’s one of his aunt’s friend and she’s been with him every day since his parents have left. Another nurse stays with him at night but he’s usually asleep by the time she gets there and she’s gone when he wakes up. 

“Talan.” The nurse’s voice is strict, “What are you doing?” 

“I’ll call.” Talan agrees but he’s more worried about being caught than Oliver’s promises, “Dude go party. Do something fun. Don’t be all you.” 

Oliver laughs. 

“And.” Talan wheels himself around to give himself a few more seconds of privacy, “Don’t like listen to me if I ask you to come back. You gotta stay there. It’s better for you.” 

Talan figures that it’s a grown up thing to say and he hangs up without saying bye because the footsteps get closer. 

“You have therapy.” His nurse reminds him, “We couldn’t find you.” 

“I didn’t go far.” Talan points out, “Like worst game of hide and seek.” 

The nurse isn’t amused. She grabs the handle of his wheelchair and starts pushing him back to his room. 

“I just wanted to see the storm.” Talan defends himself, “Call my brother my dads are flying I wanted to know if they were gonna be on time.” 

“You can’t just leave.” The nurse tries to get him to understand, “Where else are you going to go?” 

“Nowhere.” Talan mumbles. 

He’s quiet as he’s wheeled back to his room and transferred back into his bed. He hates that he needs help. Hates that once he’s in bed he’s stuck there unless someone helps him out. 

“The weather isn’t that bad.” The nurse says as she settles his wheelchair in a corner of the room, “It won’t delay flights.” 

“That’s what my brother said.” Talan tells her, “He’s smart. He’s at Harvard.” 

Talan reaches for his sketchpad and slips the pencil out of the spine. 

“I miss him.” He says, “He like takes care of me even when I hate it.”

“He sounds like a good brother.” The nurse says. 

Living without Oliver at home will be weird. It’s something Talan hasn’t really thought about. He’d lived alone with Ryan for most of the year but that hadn’t been the same as being home alone with both his parents. 

“S’gonna be weird without him.” Talan shrugs, “Dunno what I’m gonna do.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can no longer stare at this chapter. 
> 
> I feel as if this sounds like an empty apology by now but I really am sorry that this is so late. I really have been looking at this chapter every day since December and every day since December I've tweaked it, deleted parts, added parts, entirely given up and been really excited. 
> 
> Like I said last chapter, my giant word document (titled SURFING19982) ran out last chapter and now I have important decisions to make about where this story is going. 
> 
> I feel incredibly guilty because I am not as passionate about this as I used to be partly because of my personal feelings about Michael Phelps life choices and partly because it's really hard for me to choose one specific way for this story to go (THERE ARE SO MANY). 
> 
> In the end I don't want to let anyone down. In the end I'm not sure I can carry the Phelps/Lochte boys into adulthood. On the other hand though I feel as if I have to. 
> 
> Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this. It felt as if it dragged on while I was writing it but I think this is where everyone is in the story. A little unsure, a little bored and a little fed up. 
> 
> Thank you for being patient, for loving my characters, for reading and for being more supportive than I probably deserve. 
> 
> I love and cherish your comments, they carry me through my week. 
> 
> <3
> 
> Lillyluna
> 
> (Last chapter I said there was only a chapter left but there will probably be two more or one more. I'm not sure what December me was thinking)

They drive to the hospital in another rental car. They’ve used so many over the past month that Michael’s given up on keeping track. This one is too small for the both of them and he hopes his car is still at the hotel. He can’t imagine driving Talan all the way home in a compact.

It’s stormy and muggy. The wiper blades are going full blast and even with their help Ryan has to lean forward closer to the windshield to see better. 

Michael hadn’t been able to fall asleep the night before. Alone in bed he’d worried about Oliver and worried about Talan. He’d debated calling his lawyer and tried to remember the details of the prenup Ryan and him had signed twenty years ago. 

Finally, he’d sent an email to his lawyer. Transferred money into Oliver’s bank account and looked up some of the physiotherapists Talan’s doctor had mentioned. 

He’d slept for a few hours before the sun had come up and had awoken still holding his phone. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to check the email his lawyer had sent back. Doesn’t want to think that twenty years ago kids hadn’t seemed important, that maybe he’d been lax on that part of their prenup. 

Ryan slams on the breaks and the jerk forces Michael back to reality. 

“This asshole cut me off.” Ryan explains gesturing to the car in front of them before shooting the driver the finger. 

It’s the first time Ryan willingly talks to him that day. 

“Yeah. Weather sucks.” Michael adds uselessly. The first words he willingly speaks to Ryan that day too.

Michael doesn’t know if Ryan slept anymore than he did but he guesses no. Ryan doesn’t usually flip strangers off. He knows that twenty years ago Ryan had already cared about their future kids. If the prenup favours one of them in that aspect, it’ll be Ryan. 

Oliver turns eighteen in four months. 

Talan isn’t even sixteen. Michael can’t imagine losing him for the next three years. 

The silence is unnervingly uncomfortable. Michael reverts to aimlessly playing with his phone. He goes through his emails, avoiding the unread one from their lawyer.

“We’re gonna meet with his doctor.” Michael says after reading the last email update on Talan, “If all he’s doing is rehab he should be home. If he needs a nurse or whatever we can.”

 

Ryan doesn’t answer. 

“He shouldn’t spend another night here.” Michael argues against Ryan’s silence. 

Michael rationalizes this is what Ryan wants. Talan being back home also means that they’re hours away from Caleb and Bruce. Michael chooses not to mention that perk. 

“Ry.” Michael says sharply, “This is you too.” 

Lightening strikes and the crash of thunder follows almost immediately. Ryan sets his jaw and Michael guesses that he hasn’t bought into the idea yet that he doesn’t agree. 

“You don’t want him home?” Michael guesses, “He should be-” 

“Who’s gonna help him shower and make sure he ain’t doing stuff he’s not suppose to do? How d’we know he won’t get hurt again or get another infection.” Ryan glances away from the road to look at Michael, “What if we think he’s sleeping and he’s havin’ another seizure?” 

This is Ryan scared. 

“We get a nurse.” Michael suggests, “To spend the night. We dig out the baby monitors.” 

“We gotta bring a bed downstairs.” Ryan conditions “Make sure he can get around.” 

“We’ll move his snacks to lower shelves.” Michael jokes, “He’ll be fine.” 

Ryan doesn’t laugh. 

“He wants to be home.” Michael insists.

Ryan turns into the hospital parking lot and stops to grab a parking ticket. The parking lot is full and it takes a few minutes to find an empty spot.

“He’s going to be fine with us.” Michael says again frustrated, “We know-” 

“How’re we not gonna fight around him?” Ryan snaps, “How’s this working out?” 

He motions between the two of them, shakes his head and Michale figures it out. Once they’re home, away from the hospital, they have to deal with each other. They have to act on all the promises they’d made about fixing things in New York. Once they’re home there are no more excuses. Once they’re home they have to decide if their marriage is worth fixing. Once they’re home Talan isn’t safe from their fights anymore. 

“I sent an email to-” Michael starts admitting. 

“Me too.” Ryan confesses, “Someone else.” 

The rain pounds against the parked car and instead of thinking about what they’ve just said Michael worries that the rental car hasn’t come with umbrellas. 

“We ain’t making this hell for him.” Ryan says quietly, “For Ols either. It’s gotta be like-” 

The last time they’d thrown lawyers into the mix Oliver had been a baby and things had gotten ugly. Michael remembers punching Ryan in the face, the only time he’d ever hit him, and Ryan hitting him back. Remembers having to wait outside his mother’s house to talk to a cop and how Hilary had kept Oliver for a week. 

Ryan’s phone vibrates in the cup holder. 

“He’s waiting for us.” Ryan reads Talan’s text, “We gotta go.” 

Instead of getting out of the car Ryan leans back against his seat and closes his eyes. 

Ryan presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. His cell phone buzzes again and he doesn’t bother to look at it. 

“We take him home we can sleep.” Michael offers, choosing to forget the conversation they’ve just had. He ignores that they’d just calmly discussed ending their marriage.

Ryan’s phone buzzes violently in the cup holder and Michael reaches to answer it.

“Hey Baby, we’re on our way.” He says without checking that it’s really Talan. 

“Yeah like.” Talan doesn’t mention that Michael isn’t Ryan, “I need you guys. It’s um yeah.” 

Talan sounds just as fed up as Michael feels and Michael wants to take him home right away. 

“Five minutes.” Michael promises. “Okay babe?” 

“Okay, I can’t see the car.” Talan whines. 

“It’s a rental.” Michael explains, “We’re on our way up now.” 

“I thought your flight was gonna be delayed.” Talan says, “Like you wouldn’t come.” 

“We’re here Pal.” Michael comforts, “Five minutes.”

“Okay. I’m waiting.” Talan answers. “Come save me.”

Talan hangs up without saying goodbye and Michael hands the phone back to Ryan. 

“He’s waiting.” Michael passes on the message, “He’s-” 

“Yeah.” Ryan interrupts but doesn’t move to take his phone or get out of the car. 

Michael waits but Ryan still doesn’t move. 

“What the fuck’s your problem?” Michael finally calls out, “We-” 

Ryan chances a sideways glance at him and Michael gets what Ryan’s problem is before Ryan speaks. 

“I don’t wanna go up.” Ryan admits, his voice serious and quiet. 

Michael understands. Talan is draining. This entire ordeal has been draining. Talan automatically defaults to Ryan for everything. 

“He needs us.” Michael tries. 

“I know.” Ryan breathes out frustrated, “I need him too.” 

“Then we have to go.” Michael says uselessly, “He’s waiting. He’s been with my mom and Kristin.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees half-heartedly. “I’m just-” 

He doesn’t finish his sentence but Michael can guess the end because he’s been guessing the end of Ryan’s sentences for half his life. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t come up.” Michael declares because Ryan seems to have lost it and the five minutes are slowly draining by, “Go to the hotel and I’ll deal with-” 

“No.” Ryan cuts him off. “Nah.” 

“We can’t give up on-” Michael tries. 

“I ain’t.” Ryan says frustrated, “Don’t.” 

The animosity in the car is high until Ryan shakes his head. 

“Sorry.” He apologizes, “I didn’t sleep. I’m worried about Gator. I don’t know how to make it better. I shouldn’t take it out on you. I-” 

“It’s not good.” Michael finishes. 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees. 

Michael hesitates his next move because he has a hundred questions to ask Ryan; questions that have been haunting his thoughts since Oliver’s outburst at the hospital earlier that week. 

“Dude.” Michael uses the nickname that sounds dumb now that they’re both older, “Are you-” 

Drinking? Is what Michael wants to ask. Cheating? Is another question high up on the list. Before he has a chance to finish his question though Ryan has picked up his phone and undone his seat belt. 

“We’ll have to run for it. I should have parked closer.” Ryan half apologizes like he’s just noticed the torrential rain. “Three days with Kristin? That was unfair.” 

Before Michael can talk Ryan is already out of the car and running towards the hospital. 

None of Michael’s questions get answered.

*

Talan hangs up on Michael and gives up on trying to spot the car. He drops his phone in his lap and turns his wheelchair around. 

He wheels himself back and forth impatiently a dozen feet away from the floor’s elevator bank. He does it unconsciously for a minute before his nurse places a hand on the handle of his wheelchair and kicks on the breaks. 

“Dude really?” Talan rolls his eyes, “Lemme.” 

“No.” She refuses, “You don’t-” 

The elevator dings and Talan shifts his focus to the still closed doors. They open but his parents don’t walk out. He grinds his teeth and narrows his eyes. 

He’s had his aunt and his grandparents with him constantly since his parents had left but now they’ve left too. His grandparents had gone ahead to Daytona earlier that day and his aunt had left right after lunch to help his cousins make their way to school. 

He’s left with his day nurse who acts more like a prison warden. 

He’s officially over it. 

“ Go away.” He argues against the nurse and knows he sounds pathetic. “Take the break off.”

“No Talan.” She says again. “I can’t.”

“They’re coming back.” He insists angry and annoyed, “You can go.” 

“I think I’ll stay until they get here.” She answers patiently. 

Her patience almost annoys him more than her presence. 

He watches the arrows light up as the elevators travel from floor to floor. None of them are going near the lobby and he sighs aggravated. He shifts in his chair trying to find a position that doesn’t hurt his ribs or his hips. It’s useless.

He shifts again and wills the elevator to start moving toward his floor. He checks his phone quickly before looking up. 

“How’s your pain?” 

“Zero.” He lies. “I’m fine.” 

He hears her take the break off the wheelchair and feels her pull him back.

“No.” He grabs the wheels of his chair to stop her; the sudden movement sends a shooting pain down his side. “Like don’t.”

“Talan-” She reaches down to steady him. 

He wants to jerk away from her but the pain from reaching for the wheel is still too intense to move again. 

“It’s time for your med-” 

“I’m gonna scream.” He warns her instead, “If you don’t stop.” 

“Scream?” She challenges.

“Yeah like for help.” He winces, “Leave me alone.” 

She doesn’t answer but she moves her hands away from him and takes a step back from his wheelchair. 

“Where you scared I’ll go?” He challenges after the pain has faded enough for him to talk normally, “I just wanna wait here. I gotta show them.” 

The past few days have been harder than Talan’s allowed himself to say. Now, knowing that his parents are minutes away he feels his composure start to crumble away. 

He pushes himself closer to the elevators and further away from the nurse. He looks at his watch and knows he has another few hours before she leaves and his other nurse comes. Only another night before he can go home. 

“Talan, if you push yourself too hard it’s-”

“I’m fine.” He lies again. “I’m gonna be home tomorrow. My dad said.” 

“That’s up to the doctor not-” 

“He’s Michael Phelps.” Talan adds, “Like that guy.” 

Talan doesn’t try to explainexactly how this will help his cause. Instead he wheels himself further away and stops in front of the elevators next to the walker still parked there. He looks down at his phone, tugs on his beanie and waits. 

“They’re on their way.” He insists when she takes a step closer to him, “Like right now.” 

*

Talan is waiting for them. 

Michael sees him as soon as the elevator doors crack open. His youngest son is wheeling his wheelchair back and forth impatiently and hitting his walker with every push forward. His entire face lights up the second he sees them. 

Talan looks way better than he had when they’d left. He’s not as pale and the bruising on his face is mostly gone. He’s still too thin but Michael is willing to overlook that. 

Talan is still grinning and Michael watches Ryan visibly relax. 

“Hey Babe.” Michael smiles at him, “Sorry it took us-” 

He starts walking towards him but Talan holds his hands out to stop them. 

“No stay there!” Talan blurts out, “Wait.” 

“Baby.” Ryan takes a few steps closer, “Dude we-” 

“Stay there!” Talan calls out again, “Come on listen.” 

Ryan doesn’t listen and Michael grabs onto his shirt to pull him back. Ryan tenses at the touch and Michael isn’t surprised. He lets go. 

Talan doesn’t seem to notice.

“I gotta show you something.” Talan insists, “Come on.” 

There’s ten feet between them and Michael hadn’t realized how much he’d missed Talan. Can’t imagine why he’d spent a year trying to avoid him. 

“Dad.” Talan calls out, “Come on.” 

Michael has no idea which one of them Talan is talking to. 

“We’re waiting.” Ryan calls out, “What you got?” 

“I didn’t want no one to tell you.” Talan starts. 

Talan leans forward in his wheelchair to grip the handles of his walker. 

“No.” The nurse reminds Talan, “Hold the chair.” 

“Yeah.” Talan nods and moves his hands, “Ok yeah.” 

“Do you need help?” She asks. 

“No.” Talan dismisses looking sideways at her. “Yes. Help. A little.”

Ryan and Michael still wait frozen. They watch Talan struggle for a second before he slowly rises out of the wheelchair and stands up. 

“Jeah!” Talan cheers beaming, “I didn’t want no one to tell you! I’ve been waiting to show you guys!” 

Michael remembers what it had felt like to watch Talan stand up on his own for the first time. He remembers what it had felt like to watch him walk the two feet between Ryan and him for the first time. It had felt something like this. Talan had been to little to understand how proud he was then. 

“Look at you.” Michael beams back at Talan. “Ry, he’s-” 

Ryan doesn’t talk. He walks fast towards Talan and Michael is right behind him. Ryan hugs Talan close and Michael puts one of his hands on Talan’s back . 

“You’re wet.” Talan complains without trying to pull away, “Like soaked.” 

“Careful.” The nurse warns, one of her hands pushing against Ryan’s shoulder “We’re not super steady yet.”

“Nah.” Talan shakes his head, “Plenty steady.” 

“I got him.” Ryan assures. 

Despite the nurse’s hand, Talan doesn’t move away from Ryan. 

“I ain’t allowed to try walking.” He says, moving his head sideways to look at Michael, “but like I can stand that’s okay.”

“That’s more than okay Babe.” Michael says elated, “You’re good.” 

He gets choked up and tries to hide it by coughing. Talan turns back to Ryan. 

“I’m glad you’re back.” Talan says into Ryan’s shoulder. “It sucked.” 

“I know.” Ryan agrees, “You’re tough.”

“I gotta go home.” Talan turns back to Michael, “I was tough but now I wanna-” 

“You’re coming home.” Michael promises before he can think about it. “Tomorrow.” 

Talan’s smile returns. He grins so wide his eyes crinkle and Michael reaches to kiss the side of his face, close to his hat. 

“Ok I gotta sit down now.” Talan says, “I need help to do it.”

With Talan sitting back in his wheelchair he allows them to push him back to his room. Michael pushes him carefully trying not to jostle him around too much but Talan doesn’t seem to care. He’s talking at them a hundred miles an hour filling them in about the past few days. 

“Why are you wearing a hat?” Ryan finally asks, “It’s warm dork.”

Ryan reaches over to grab the hat.

“Hey no don’t.” Talan protests. 

Talan reaches up a second too late and Ryan is able to grab the beanie off his head. 

Talan’s hair is a mess. It’s unevenly cut and most of the back is still long. All the white blonde sun bleached parts have been cut off. His hair looks darker and parts of it are so short they look like bald patches.

Michael stops pushing the wheelchair.

“The hell d’you do?” Ryan calls out.

“Duude.” Talan complains embarrassed before reaching back for the hat, “Come on.” 

Talan pulls the hat back on to hide his hair. He shakes his head at Ryan. 

“I know it looks dumb okay.” He warns them, “You don’t gotta say it.” 

“Who did it?” Michael asks, “How?” 

“Me.” Talan admits, “With scissors.” 

“Who gave you scissors?” Ryan says alarmed, “Why-” 

“I found them in the kitchen.” Talan says an odd pride in his voice, “So I stole them.” 

“And hacked off your hair?” Ryan asks confused, “You wanted a haircut we-” 

“I was on a ton of pain killers.” Talan excuses “Seemed like a good idea. Wasn’t.” 

“It’s not that bad.” Michael answers. 

“You gotta say that ‘cause you’re my dad.” Talan challenges. 

“Was it your idea or Brady’s?” Ryan asks, “Who else was here?” 

“Just me.” Talan shrugs. “Was bored. Tired of seeing the blood.” 

Talan cranes his neck to frown at both of them. 

“It’ll grow back.” Michael turns into Talan’s room and looks pointedly at Ryan, “Ry. It’s not a big deal.”

“I mean I look really dumb.” Talan adds, “So it kinda is.”  
“We’ll fix it.” Michael says, “Find some clippers and-” 

“You ain’t buzzing my head.” Talan interjects, “No way.” 

“Because that’d look dumb.” Ryan says sarcastically. 

Talan rolls his eyes before he leans his head sideways to rest against Ryan’s side. 

“You shouldn’t have left me.” Talan tells Ryan, “That was dumb.” 

*

Ryan knows he should stay. 

Talan sleeps for more of the rest of the afternoon and Ryan and Michael sit in silence on opposite side of his room. 

Every time Michael glances down at his phone Ryan imagines him planning his divorce attack plan. Ryan feels too sick to even read the emails he’d gotten back. 

Talan’s therapy schedule for the next few months has been planned and the amount of help he needs is overwhelming. Already their house is being rearranged for him to go home. Already they’ve arranged for him to leave the next day. 

Taking Talan away from the safety of the hospital is frightening. 

Talan breathes in and snores before he moves around to face Ryan. 

Michael is busy typing and Talan stays asleep. Ryan closes his eyes and leans his head against his hand. 

“We should fill his prescriptions before we leave.” Michael says without looking up, “So we can just be with him at home tomorrow.” 

Ryan opens his eyes. 

“Shit you were sleeping.” Michael says glancing up, “I didn’t-” 

“No it’s whatever.” Ryan yawns. 

“I-” Michael starts but his phone buzzes and he chooses to read the messages instead of answering. 

“Lawyers?” Ryan guesses. 

“No.” Michael answers before putting the phone away, “My mom. They had to let the movers in for my office. Didn’t know what had to go to storage.”

“I’ll sleep down there with him.” Ryan offers, “I don’t like him being alone-” 

“If you stay with him you don’t have to sleep with me.” Michael spells out the truth, 

“Stop.” Ryan says quietly, “Talan’s right-” 

“So we’re never going to talk about this?” Michael guesses, “We’re gonna go home and Talan’s going to be there and-” 

Ryan can’t. He hangs his head and rubs his face before he gets up. 

“I can’t stay here.” He says before he even thinks about where he’s going, “I can’t-” 

“Fuck Ryan!” Michael exclaims in the tone he always uses to express disappointment, “I-” 

“I need to just not be here.” Ryan says.

“With me.” Michael adds. 

Ryan doesn’t say anything. 

“Talan-”

“He knows I’ll be back.” Ryan insists. “He gets-” 

“He shouldn’t have to.” Michael snaps, “A fifteen year old shouldn’t have to get that he’s too much for you to handle.” 

“You did that to him for a year.” Ryan says angry and hurt, forgetting for a second that Talan is in the room too. “‘Cause you didn’t get his problems. Don’t shit on me for it. You did the same. I need one night to sleep I-”

“I can’t deal.” Michael mimics almost cruelly, “Fuck. Sorry.” He catches himself. 

Talan’s soft snoring is the only sound in the room. Ryan thinks of sitting back down but can’t stand the idea of being alone with Michael for another second. 

“Why was Caleb making him food?” Michael asks instead of apologizing.

“What?” Ryan stares confused.

“He was texting you.” Michael accuses, “About Tal and he was bringing him food. Why?” 

Ryan tries to remember the text message because he can’t understand what’s going on in Michael’s head. 

“Because they live right there and Tal was hungry. Jesus.” Ryan says simply hoping his answer makes Michael feel dumb, “What d’you think is going on?”

“He’s texting you. Calling you babe-”

“You’re reading my texts?” Ryan spurts out; hurt by the lack of trust “He calls everyone Babe. He calls you Babe. You sleeping with him? Tal told you why he brought him food because they were giving him stuff he wouldn’t eat.“ 

Ryan looks at Michael disgusted. 

“I’m not fucking cheating.” Ryan defends himself one last time, “Jesus. He’s married.” 

They stare at each other before Ryan glances towards Talan who is still sleeping. 

“We can’t do this in front of him.” Ryan says. 

“If you’re leaving go.” Michael says dismissively instead of apologizing and without looking at him. “You’re tired. I don’t want to fight.”

“D’you really call lawyers?” Ryan asks before he walks out.

“Yes.” Michael admits, “For Tal.”

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “For Tal.” 

“We’re done?” Michael asks and for a conversation that seems life ending the question seems to come out fairly painlessly. 

“Dunno.” Ryan shrugs. 

*

Once Ryan leaves Michael’s anger smolders. He watches Talan sleep and watches the nurse walk in and out of the room. Watches people walk by in the hallway peering curiously inside their room probably hoping to catch a glimpse of Oliver. 

When Talan is still sleeping half an hour after Ryan has left Michael ventures out in search of hair clippers. When he walks back into Talan’s room with clippers in hand Talan is awake and sitting up bleary eyed in front of a still covered dinner tray. 

“Where’s Dad?” He asks. 

“He went to sleep.” Michael answers without admitting that he has no idea where Ryan is “Pack up the hotel room.” 

Talan frowns for a second before he nods. 

“Yeah I get it.” He says, “I don’t wanna be here either.” 

Michael sits back on his chair, pulling it closer to Talan’s bed. 

“You got dinner.” He points out. “What did they give you?” 

“I didn’t check.” Talan says looking disgusted, “I’m sick of it.” 

Michael takes the cover off the tray anyways and can’t bring himself to force Talan to eat the grilled cheese and soup under it. He holds out the bag of apple slices to his kid.

“No thanks.” Talan wrinkles his face and bats the bag away. “Not hungry.” 

The bones in Talan’s hands stick out and his collarbone is sharp against his skin with the new scar. 

“I can go get food.” Michael offers, “You have to eat.” 

“No.” Talan demands. “I want you to stay.” 

Talan pushes his table further away from him, picks up the pack of apples and throws them next to his tray. 

“We can order pizza?” Michael suggests.

“No.” Talan says uninterested, “I’m not hungry.” 

Talan slouches further down in his bed before he grabs the remote and pushes his bed upright a few more inches. 

“Wanna play cards?” Talan asks reaching forward for the small drawer in his tray table and pulling out a pack of cards with girls in bikinis on the back, “Ols got these for me. I’m killing it at spades.”

“If you want.” Michael offers. 

“Yeah.” Talan insists, “You sit there and we put the table here and you have to deal because if I do it hurts. So you go.” 

As he talks Talan points to the various things Michael needs to move. When everything is finally as Talan wants it Michael starts shuffling the deck. 

“What d’you go get?” Talan asks Michael curiously spotting the clippers.

“For your hair.” Micheael explains, “The nurse found a pair.”

“You gonna fix it?” Talan asks curiously. 

“Gonna try.” Michael offers, “It’s going to be shorter though.”

Talan considers his offer for a second before he takes off his hat and runs a hand through his mess of a haircut. He tugs on the still long strands near the back and lets his fingers brush up the parts that are almost bald. 

“Not like I’m going anywhere.” Talan resigns. “I’m tired of this place. Done with everyone touching me and waking me up. I just wanna like be home.” 

“You’re going home.” Michael reminds him, “Tomorrow.” 

Talan lets go of his hair and puts his beanie back on. He stares at Michael like he’s trying to think about what to say. 

“What baby?” Michael asks as he deals. “Home’s good.” 

“I gotta go home in a wheelchair.” Talan finally admits. 

“Yeah.” Michael says cautiously, “But not forever.” 

“You don’t have to talk like that.” Talan says starting to sound impatient, “Like just say what’s real I’m not gonna lose it. Just say-” 

Talan stops and picks his cards up. He discards. 

“Just say what?” Michael asks. 

“Dunno.” Talan shrugs, “Like it’s gonna be okay. I can get around. You won’t get mad I need help.” 

Talan refuses to look at him and Michael puts his cards down. 

“That I’m gonna be able to play basketball like my life ain’t over. I can still go to college and play.”  
Michael gets that his silence can’t be comforting but before he can talk Talan asks another question. 

“Where m’I gonna sleep?” Talan asks nervously, “Can’t do stairs.”

“We’ll go home together and figure it out.” Michael answers honestly, “We put your bed downstairs in my office. Move stuff around. Got you a nurse-” 

“Can it be a dude? I’m done with-” 

“If you want.” Michael offers, “We can-” 

“I can pee by myself.” Talan insists, “I don’t need-” 

“Stop worrying Tal.” Michael says. “Home’s good.” 

“Yeah but.” Talan stammers, his thumb bending the corner of a card. “I can’t walk.” 

Michael remembers Ryan’s knee injury and how in the storm of doctors and surgeons that had come right after the possibility that Ryan would have to quit swimming had been brought up. 

He remembers sitting in a hospital room with a tiny Oliver waiting for a third opinion and refusing to let Ryan dwell on the end of his career. He hadn’t really known what to say then and seventeen years haven’t made this part of having a family any easier. 

“Your dad and me have the best learn to walk school around.” Michael tries cautiously, “100% graduation rate. We never had a return student but we can figure it out.” 

“You’re gonna help?” Talan asks. 

“Yeah.” Michael insists. “This isn’t all you.” 

They play in silence for a few moments and Michael finds himself playing slower to let Talan win. 

“We’ll burn the wheelchair.” Michael says after their first game is over. 

“It’s like a rental?” Talan says through a yawn, “Someone else might need it.” 

“We’re gonna burn it.” Michael confirms. 

“Yeah.” Talan yawns again, “I like burning stuff.” 

Michael starts to deal another game but Talan has trouble keeping his eyes open. Instead he puts the cards back in the drawer and picks up the clippers. He pulls the hat off Talan’s head and Talan’s eyes open. 

“You gonna fix it?” Talan asks. 

“You trust me?” Michael asks, running his hand over Talan’s unevenly shaved hair. 

“I don’t wanna be bald.” Talan exclaims. 

“It’ll look fine.” Michael points out. 

“How d’you know?” Talan asks skeptically. 

“You look like Dad.” Michael explains, “Dad looked good with shaved hair.” 

“Dad hates it.” Talan says mournfully, “I messed it.” 

“Dad’s going to get used to it.” Michael says gently, “He doesn’t hate it.” 

Talan shrugs but stays quiet. He watches Michael carefully, one of his hands gently rubbing against his ribs. 

“Are you hurting?” Michael asks picking up on Talan’s quietness. 

“Nah.” Talan says absentminded. 

“You just being tough?” Michael asks. 

“Nah.” Talan denies, “Not lying. It’s better. ” 

Michael looks around the room to find something to catch the mess and grabs a towel folded on top of the cabinet. He puts it around Talan’s shoulders before he settles himself on his bed. 

Michael gently tips Talan’s head forward and sideways to evaluate the hair situation. He looks back at the box trying to figure out which safety to use. He hasn’t shaved anyone’s head since Ryan had decided to cut all of his off a few months after Athens. 

“I really didn’t wanna scare Dad.” Talan explains. He lets his head rest against Michael’s hand. “I just got tired of seing blood-” 

“It’s just hair Tal.” Michael says to stop his apologies, “Dad’s tired.” 

“Maybe you should go back.” Talan says. 

Michael carefully selects the right part and clicks it on the shaver. He testily turns it on and runs it over a small patch behind Talan’s ear. Talan’s head falls forward. 

There isn’t much hair left to shave and Michael is far from an expert. He carefully keeps shaving around Talan’s ear ignoring his son’s offer. 

“I’m just gonna sleep.” Talan adds. 

“You want to be alone?” Michael asks. 

“No.” Talan says quickly, “But like maybe Dad needs you.” 

“You’re first.” Michael says and he tries to emphasize the statement. To maybe make up for a year of less than stellar parenting. “Dad’s okay.”

The more hair Michael shaves, the darker Talan’s hair seems to become. The darker Talan’s hair becomes the less Talan looks like Talan. 

Talan leans against him and occasionally reaches up to touch his shorter hair. 

“Looks good.” Michael encourages.

“Yeah.” Talan says doubtfully. 

The hair clings to the back of Talan’s neck and Michael brushes it off. Talan’s sleepy silence forces him to focus on his own thoughts. On the questions he hadn’t had the chance to ask Ryan. 

“You’re super quiet.” Talan whispers, “S’freaking me out.” 

Talan tells Oliver everything. Oliver had no motive to lie about Ryan’s drinking. Oliver wouldn’t have lied. 

Against his better judgment Michael decides to ask the question that has been bothering him for days. A question he probably should have asked Oliver. A question he should have definitely asked Ryan.

“Does Dad drink a lot?” Michael asks carefully before he can realize that this isn’t his best idea. “When I’m not home.” 

Talan is quiet. 

“You can tell me Tal.” Michael prompts, “I just want-” 

“True talk.” Talan interrupts, “D’you guys put me on anti-depressants?” 

“Yeah we did.” Michael decides to be honest, “To help you out.” 

“Okay.” Talan agrees. “I get it.” 

Michael puts the clippers down and focuses back on his son. 

“Talan.” Michael tries again, “If Dad-” 

“I lied before.” Talan says after a pause, picking up hair from the bed and putting them on the towel, “I hurt a lot I need-” 

Michael pushes the call nurse button before Talan finishes his sentence. He feels guilty for pushing Talan to talk. 

Once Talan’s painkillers have kicked in, Michael starts to clean up and pack. The stuff Talan has accumulated over the past few weeks is astounding. 

“I don’t wanna bring any of this stuff home.” Talan sleepily says, “I don’t wanna remember.” 

Michael looks up from the t-shirts he’s stuffing into a duffel bag (t-shirts Ryan would be folding) and nods. 

“You might want some of this stuff Tal.” He cautions, “We got you-” 

Talan groans. Like discussing t-shirts requires too much effort and Michael stops packing. He sits back next to Talan’s bed and reaches for his son’s hand. 

“Feel better?” Michael asks. 

“Better when I’m home.” Talan says. 

“We missed you dropping Ols off.” Michael tells him, “It would have been better with you. Ols missed you too.” 

“Ols skyped me.” Talan says, “I miss him.” 

“I miss him too.” Michael agrees. 

“I told him to come back.” Talan admits guiltily, “But I said not to. So you have to tell him not to if he tries.” 

“He’s staying at Harvard.” Michael confirms and it’s something that hurts to say. “He’s coming home for Thanksgiving.” 

Talan’s eyes are closed though and he doesn’t answer. His grip is loose. He breathes in deeply.

“I want all the dogs.” Talan mumbles and his words are slow and slurred, “In my bed. I wanna new dog.” 

They already have too many dogs but Michael can’t bring himself to say no.

“We’ll find another dog.” Michael promises, “You can choose.” 

“Name it Oliver.” Talan laughs. 

“Okay.” Michael agrees. 

“Call Ols.” Talan asks, “I wanna talk to him.” 

“He’s at school Baby.” Michael says, “You’re falling asleep.” 

“No call.” Talan insists. “Call.” 

*

Instead of driving the five minutes to the hotel, Ryan drives the half hour to Bruce and Caleb’s house. Even though he knows it’s the dumb choice to make and that he’s giving Michael even more reasons to believe he’s cheating. 

He’s a mess driving and he’s even more of a mess by the time he’s ringing their doorbell. 

“Ryan.” Bruce says, “What’s wrong? Come in.” 

Their house is quiet and Ryan knows Nat’s left for college too. 

“I-” Ryan stumbles on his words, not sure what to share first “I called a lawyer, he called a lawyer we’re not going to-” 

“Who called lawyers?” Caleb asks walking in from the kitchen putting down the glass of wine he’d been holding on a side table in the hallway. 

“Mike.” Ryan answers, “Me.” 

“Ryan.” Bruce says carefully, “Where does he think you are?” 

“At the hotel. He’s with Tal I said I was too tired I just couldn’t-” 

“You’re going to call and say-” 

“No.” Ryan refuses, “No way.” 

“He needs to know there’s nothing going on we-” 

“He’s going to get the kids.” Ryan blurts out, “He’s gonna keep Tal. Fuck I need a drink.” 

Neither Bruce nor Caleb moves any closer to him. 

“He took Oliver last time.” Ryan says and his chest feels tight, “And I’d done nothing then and now he knows I-” 

“Babe.” Caleb says, “Calm down.” 

“Tal-” 

“Go sit.” Bruce grabs his arm and walks him into the kitchen, “Drink water.” 

“He’s going to get the kids.” Ryan hangs his head. “I fucked up.” 

*

Oliver isn’t used to spare time. 

He has no classes yet and he’s finished unpacking. Once he knows that his parents’ flight has landed and that Talan isn’t stranded alone in Miami for another night he relaxes. 

He starts the intro readings for his first class and puts it away. He realizes that he no longer needs to commit to the schedule that works best with his swimming practice. He can procrastinate; he can choose to do nothing.

Across the country from his family the weight of what had happened in Costa Rica lessens. Away from hospitals and over bearing relatives and the home town celebrity status he feels better. 

He doesn’t remember what his hobbies had been before swimming had over taken his life. 

“Dude.” Jake walks into their room, “Stop.” 

“I’m not doing anything.” Oliver points out, “Like actually nothing.” 

“Bro. There’s a princess.” Jake says, “Two floors above.” 

“What?” Oliver reaches for his book. 

“A Princess. Sweden or something. In our house.” 

“Is she hot?” Oliver asks uninterested. 

“You’re like.” Jake stammers somewhat infuriated, “You can talk to her.”

“Yeah no.” Oliver shakes his head. 

“No.” Jake refuses, “You got gold medals. You’re a fucking hero.” 

Oliver laughs at him. 

“No seriously.” Jake insists, “Help a bro out.” 

“By doing what?” Oliver laughs again, “My medals are in a deli bag in New York. I don’t know.” 

Jakes looks like Oliver’s cluelessness is physically painful to witness. 

“Help a bro out.” Jake pleads again. 

“You want to borrow a medal?” Oliver asks, “You go talk to her.” 

“Ugh.” Jake groans and falls across Oliver’s bed, “Come on.” 

“No.” Oliver shakes his head. 

“Then we’re going to the party.” Jake decides, “You’re going to the party.” 

Oliver thinks of refusing but remembers his conversation with Talan earlier in the day. 

“Fine.” He agrees, “I’ll go to the party.” 

“Thanks.” Jake says, “My life isn’t hopeless now.” 

*

Ryan gets to the hotel early the next morning. 

He packs what’s left of their stuff and throws away most of the hospital brochures they’d brought back with them along the way. 

He checks out and takes care of the bill before Michael can see it. 

Before Michael can find out that while Talan had been fighting for his life Ryan had been drunk. 

At the hospital he parks closer to the building and makes his way upstairs. 

The logistics of getting Talan home are complicated. They have to switch cars, return the rental and meet back up together. They have to transfer bags and coordinate for x-rays and MRI scans to come with them. There are seemingly a hundred forms to sign and a few hours to spend in a car. 

Talan sleeps for most of the trip and Ryan notices that Michael drives far more carefully than he usually does. He stops slowly and glances back towards Talan at every bump and pothole. 

While Michael worries about potholes Ryan worries about the room service charges on their credit card. 

They stop for gas before they get on the turnpike and Ryan moves to the backseat to sit with Talan. When Michael starts driving Talan falls back asleep against him. 

“My mom wanted to get people together to surprise him.” Michael says after glancing back to make sure Talan is sleeping, “I said not to. I didn’t want it to be too much.” 

“Yeah.” Out of habit Ryan reaches over to brush Talan’s hair back but there is no hair to brush. He runs his hand over the scar on Talan’s collarbone instead. 

“My mom and Bob are still there.” Michael warns, “I didn’t know when they should go if we might-”

“It’s okay.” Ryan whispers, “Talan probably wants them there.” 

“I-” Michael starts. 

“What?” Ryan prompts. 

“At one point I didn’t think we’d like get to do this.” Michael admits. “I really thought-” 

“We got him.” Ryan refuses to remember those days. “We can sleep.” 

Once they exit the turnpike and get closer to home Ryan gently shakes Talan.

“Baby we’re almost home.” He says quietly, “Wanna wake up?” 

“Yeah?” Talan sits up and winces before looking around. “Dude yeah!” 

“You doing okay?” Michael asks. 

“Yeah.” Talan answers. “Just wanna be home.” 

They turn onto their street and Michael grins. 

“Baby look.” He says pointing towards their home. 

“Whoa.” Talan leans forward to peer out the front window, “There’s like people.” 

There’s a small crowd assembled in their front yard with signs and halfway up the street they can hear the cheering. 

Talan hangs his head. 

“Babe.” Michael slows down the car and glances back quickly, “It’s okay.” 

Talan nods but Ryan sees tears drip down his nose. 

“No.” Talan chokes out, “S’just a lot. I’m happy.” 

* 

Talan’s makeshift bedroom is big enough for a bed and the couch. Michael’s desk, his chair and his thousands of stacks of papers have been moved to storage. 

Talan is in bed with all their dogs. Hoops settled on his chest and Bert by his feet. 

“There’s like room for another right here.” Talan pats the spot beside him, “I’m gonna start looking tomorrow.” 

“We have too many dogs Talan.” Ryan fights weakly.

“Dad said I could.” Talan says smugly. “The nurse said it be good for me.” 

“The nurse said it be good to take your pain meds.” Ryan reminds him. 

“I’ll take ‘em.” Talan insists, “I’m okay for now.” 

“You got enough blankets?” Ryan asks, “Pillows?” 

“Yeah. I’m good. I got a tv and my phone.” 

“And the baby monitor.” Ryan points out.

“Yeah.” Talan grimaces, “Don’t want that one. Not a baby.” 

Ryan grabs a blanket from the bed and spreads it out over the couch. 

“Dad.” Talan rolls his eyes, “You don’t gotta stay.”

“I’m not.” Ryan insists, sitting down “I’m just gonna stay here until you sleep and then I’m going to bed.” 

“You brought a pillow.” Talan points out. 

“Yeah you know just in case.” Ryan says casually, “You need something or want someone here.”

“I got the dogs.” Talan points out “I can sleep by myself.” 

“We’re going to be all the way upstairs.” Ryan reminds him. 

“Dad.” Talan pleads, “I’m okay. Go to bed.”  
Ryan considers his kid for a second and considers the larger beds upstairs. 

“I’ll come to check on you.” He finally decides, “Take your medication.” 

Talan frowns at him but he reaches for the pills next to the water bottle and swallows them down. 

“There.” Talan calls out, “Can I be alone?” 

“Yeah dork.” Ryan agrees. 

“Close my door.” Talan requests as Ryan leaves, “Please.” 

Ryan walks upstairs to the master bedroom. He starts unpacking his bag and sorting out his laundry. He grabs clothes from his closet and goes to shower.

Michael is already in bed when he walks out. 

“My family’s leaving tomorrow.” Michael tells him, “I found them a flight.” 

“They don’t gotta go.” Ryan shrugs. 

“No they do.” Michael insists, “I can’t live with my mom.” 

Ryan drops his towel in the laundry basket and ignores the clothes Michael’s left on the floor a few feet away from the basket. He eyes his empty spot in bed.

“We should talk.” Michael offers. 

“I’m gonna stay down with Tal.” Ryan says without looking at his husband, “You can have the bed.”

“Jesus Ry.” Michael sounds hurt, “I don’t want-” 

“I don’t want him alone downstairs.” Ryan answers quickly.

“No you don’t want me to touch you.” Michael guesses the truth, “You don’t want to sleep with me.” 

“Yeah well.” Ryan starts without knowing what to say, “It’s not.” 

“I can’t like stay here.” Michael admits, rubbing a hand over his face, “Not this-” 

“Yeah. Not without Oliver.” Ryan accuses bitterly, “Ain’t worth it without Ols right?” 

“What’s the point?” Michael says through gritted teeth, keeping his voice down because his family is right down the hall “We don’t talk, you won’t even sleep in our room I can’t even fucking touch you without you jumping.” 

“I take care of him.” Ryan’s voice shakes, “I ain’t got nothing left.” 

*

Oliver decides not to drink. 

He takes a water bottle from the mini fridge in his room and keeps it in his hand at all time. He stays next to Jake and drops his head when people stare too hard.

He’s sent four messages to Evan and Evan hasn’t messaged back. 

“I got you another water.” Jack says when he returns with a beer for himself, “Still sealed.” 

“Thanks I-” Oliver starts but stops when his phone vibrates in his pocket. 

“Dude leave it.” Jake hides the phone screen from Oliver, “If he doesn’t message you back you don’t-” 

“That’s my brother.” Oliver says catching sight of the bottom half of his phone, “Give.” 

He grabs the phone. 

“Hey! You’re home.” He says happy. “Congrats.”

“Dad’s leaving.” Talan says.

“What?” Oliver refocuses his attention to his phone, “Sorry Baby what d’you say?” 

“Where are you?” Talan asks. 

“At a party.” Oliver has to shout to be heard, “Hang on I’ll go outside. What d’you say?” 

“Nothing.” Talan blurts out, “Never mind.” 

“No dude I’m listening.” Oliver insists, “You’re important you know? You’re all crippled.” 

Talan doesn’t laugh. 

“Sorry bad joke.” Oliver says as he cuts through the dorm room to the equally noisy hallway and into the courtyard outside his dorm, “Yo, d’you know there’s a fucking princess here? From Sweden or whatever. I can hook you up.” 

“You’re drunk.” Talan points out. 

“No.” Oliver laughs out, “I’m drinking water. Want the princess?” 

“Go back to the party.” Talan tells him.

“Nah what d’you want to tell me.” Oliver insists, “I came out so I could hear. What’s up?” 

“I’m home.” Talan says, “I wanted to tell you.” 

“Yeah you called yesterday.” Oliver reminds Talan, slightly concerned about his brother’s lack of memory, “We talked.” 

“Right yeah.” Talan laughs but it sounds weird, “sorry. Painkillers.” 

“Dude.” Oliver tries to sound more serious, “That’s not why you called. Tell me.” 

“I can’t remember.” Talan says, “Sorry I’m all messed up.” 

“That’s not okay.” Oliver worries, “D’you tell Dads you feel like this if you don’t know what’s going on it shouldn’t-” 

“No.” Talan stops him, “It’s fine. I just wanted to talk. Go party. Don’t like hookup with a princess and start a war.” 

“Baby.” Oliver tries again, “What d’you say about Dad?”

“Dad’s leaving.” Talan says. 

“Dad’s leaving?” Oliver asks, “Why?” 

“Me?” Talan says and his voice is too quiet, “They’re fighting… I guess they forgot the baby monitor goes two ways or-” 

“You heard ‘em fight?” Oliver feels gutted. 

“Yeah. They’re not… I think they’re getting divorced? They were talking about lawyers when they thought I was sleeping I-” 

“Baby.” Oliver tries to sound sure. Tries to forget the fight he’d walked in on. “It’s gonna be okay they’re just tired.”  
“Yeah.” Talan half agrees, “Maybe.”

Both of them are silent and Oliver feels guilty for not being home. 

“Go back to the party.” Talan tells him, “I’m-”

“No if you wanna talk I’ll stay.” Oliver promises, “The party’s not important.” 

“You said there was a princess.” Talan reminds him, “That’s pretty important.” 

“Yeah I don’t know how to talk to her.” Oliver admits, “Do I gotta like bow?” 

“Don’t bow.” Talan suggests, “You’ll look like a dork.” 

“How’s my dog?” Oliver asks and homesickness is suddenly overwhelming, “You gotta let him sleep on the bed.” 

“He’s on the bed.” Talan says and Oliver can almost see him roll his eyes. “He’s going to jump on me and break something.” 

“He doesn’t jump.” Oliver defends Bert, “Come on.”

“Go back to your party.” Talan tries again, “Maybe the princess has a sister.” 

“It’s gonna be okay Baby.” Oliver reassures him one last time, “Call me if you-” 

“Yeah.” Talan agrees, “Bye.” 

Talan hangs up abruptly and Oliver stares at his phone. 

“Hey.” His roommate calls out. “There’s a princess in our room.” 

“My dads are being assholes.” Oliver admits, “My brother’s dealing with it by himself.” 

“Everyone’s parents are dicks man. It’s like…” 

“He’s hurt.” Oliver adds, “He can’t like walk.” 

“How’s sitting here helping?” Jake asks, “When there’s a princ-”

“I don’t know.” Oliver interrupts, “I’m trying to think about it.” 

“Dude.” Jake takes Oliver’s cellphone and puts it in his pocket before handing him his own phone, “You’re all the way here you can’t do nothing. Stop worrying.” 

“He’s-” 

“In Florida.” Jake says, “And you’re here. You can’t keep missing your life to worry about other people. We’ll get you another bottle of water just-” 

“No.” Oliver tries unlocking Jake’s phone, “I want a shot.” 

*

When Oliver wakes up the next morning. His phone is back on his nightstand but Jake is nowhere to be seen. 

He has one new message that he hopes isn’t from Talan. 

“Hey Ols it’s Dad.” Michael’s voice starts, “I’m in New York this weekend and if you want to come down get a ticket and I’ll pick you up. Call me when you wake up.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He misses what Ryan and him used to be. He misses what their family used to be. He misses Oliver. He misses Talan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't stare at this chapter anymore.
> 
> I know it seems that maybe I've forgotten this. That I've moved on with my life. That this is no longer important.
> 
> In a way you're not wrong. 
> 
> However, I have had this chapter open in Word everyday since I posted the last chapter. I've stared at it. I've re-read it. I've read it aloud to myself. I've deleted parts. I've gone through old note books. I've dug through the endless documents where I keep bits and pieces of deleted fics to find something that I might have forgotten.
> 
> So I've reached the decision to cut this chapter in half because if I don't, you won't ever get it. This way it feels less daunting. This way I can hopefully convince myself that this is still important. That you're waiting to read the end. That I'm not typing into nothing. 
> 
> I'm sorry for the wait. 
> 
> Thank you so much.

**Baltimore  
November **Harvard

Oliver gets back to his dorm room late. He’s sober but he’d half carried Jake up a flight of stairs, through their suite and into bed. 

“Dude.” Jake slurs sprawled on top of his blankets, “Thanks.” 

“Yeah.” Oliver shakes his head at him, “Just don’t puke.” 

“D’your boyfriend call?” 

Evan is a sore spot. He hasn’t called. He hasn’t texted. He hasn’t emailed. 

Oliver checks his phone anyways. 

It’s almost 3 in the morning. He has four new voicemails and nine unread text messages. 

His father is stubborn but so is he. 

Oliver has no intention of answering any of those messages. Has no intention of meeting his dad in New York for a weekend without the rest of their family. He refuses to participate in whatever fight his parents are having. 

His aunt had told him once about the fights his parents had over him when he was a baby. How his grandparents had kept him locked in a bedroom. How he’d been flown back and forth across the country in a weird custody arrangement. How she’d kept him for a week. 

This time he can choose and he refuses to choose sides. 

Being at Harvard lets him be selfish. It lets him ignore the situation. Lets him not answer his phone. It lets him feel like he has power but it also feels like betraying Talan. 

With Michael gone Oliver can’t imagine how things are working out back home. He tries not to think of Ryan drinking. 

He tries not to feel betrayed that Michael hadn’t believed him. He wonders if Michael had even bothered asking Talan about it. When he calls Talan he’s too scared to ask real questions. Instead they talk about basketball and the dogs. 

Oliver always balks when Talan offers to pass the phone to Ryan. He hasn’t talked to either of his parents in weeks. 

Oliver is having trouble sleeping. He feels tired, gets in bed and his mind starts racing. He thinks of his homework, his readings and the circled assignment dates on his calendar. He thinks of his laundry and about making friends. He thinks of how he sometimes catches people stealing second looks at him, of how some girls show up to breakfast with makeup on and sit close to him. He thinks of how Jake rolls his eyes at them and of how Jake stares back at the people who stare at him. He thinks of things he could text to Evan. He thinks of how Evan hasn’t texted back. 

For the past three nights he’s given up on sleep and gotten up to do homework. He’s ahead in most of his readings. 

His books are stacked on his desk. Beside a stack of Post Its that keep showing up on the message board nailed to the door of his suite. All the notes are from the swim coach: invitations to practice, invitations to lunch, invitations to talk and invitations to call. Oliver is sure personal visits are next. 

He thinks of swimming and his stomach fills with dread. He thinks of spending hours a day staring at the line at the bottom of the pool and wants to shoot his brains out. He wonders if showing up to practice and drowning in the pool might make his point clear.

It’s his decision to stop swimming no matter how good he is. He doesn’t owe it to anyone. 

When he does fall asleep, he’s back on the beach in Costa Rica swimming against the waves trying to find Talan. He never gets to him on time. 

When he swims the flashbacks get too real. 

He doesn’t want to swim. 

He doesn’t want to call his dad back.

*

Oliver falls asleep with his physics book against his chest. When he wakes up, his pack of sticky notes has made an indentation on his face. 

Jake isn’t in his bed and there’s only half an hour before his first class. The downside of not falling asleep is that Oliver now routinely sleeps through his alarm. 

Breakfast is almost over. Oliver manages to grab the last bit of cocoa puffs from the dispenser and a cup of coffee. He pours too much milk into his bowl and it sloshes over the side onto his sleeve. 

The dinning hall is busy but he can’t make out anyone he knows. His phone is in his pocket and he doesn’t have a free hand to reach for it. He keeps his gaze down at his too full bowl as he walks to find an empty table; More so to avoid people staring at him than to avoid making a mess. 

He sits in a corner, pulls out his phone and starts texting. Sometimes he misses the chaos of breakfast at home. He misses the dogs running in from the backyard and his dad burning pancakes. He misses the chipped Michigan mug he drinks from and questions about school. 

“Anyone sitting here?” 

He was right about the personal visits. The coach sits down across from him without waiting for permission. 

“My roommate-” Oliver starts, looking around for Jake. 

“It’ll just be a few minutes.” The coach says, making a show of looking around the dinning hall, “Everything you’d thought it would be?” 

Oliver swishes his spoon through his bowl of cocoa puff cereals and chooses not to answer. Silence has seemingly become his newfound method of rebellion. 

“Have you had a chance to see the athletic-” The coach reaches for something in his pocket. He pulls out another business card, “When you’re free I’d love for you to come and see what we have to offer. You must really miss the-” 

Oliver’s cereal is getting soggy. 

“You’d really be an asset to the team and to Harvard. Your talent is-” 

“I don’t want to swim.” Oliver snaps. “I have to go to class.” 

He doesn’t wait for the coach to say anything else. He grabs his tray and puts it on one of the carts before storming out of the dinning hall. 

His phone buzzes in his hand as he walks out and without looking he knows it’s Michael’s number. A too big part of him suspects that Michael might be the one spurring on the swim coach to seek him out. 

Oliver remembers the way his dad’s face had gotten when he’d talked about giving up swimming: a kind of tight-lipped forced smile that thinly masked disappointment. Oliver can guess that quitting what you’re good at to have more spare time is not a Michael Phelps approved activity. 

“Hey!” 

A girl with a curtain of black braids falls in step next to him. She’s shorter than him. Her head reaches maybe the middle of his chest. They’d met in physics class when the professor had called out for Phillip, heard someone close to Oliver answer and had stared at Oliver, the only boy in his row. 

Which was another one of Jake’s ideas. 

“Sit with girls.” Jake had said, reading over an email from his older brother, “You want to sit with chicks.” 

“Dude I-” Oliver had protested. 

“Are you?” Jake had questioned, “It was just that one guy right? And he’s not calling you back so I say we-” 

We. 

They’d become a team: a weird kind of power couple. Jake unafraid to call people out, to find places where they could drink without being ID’ed and where people wouldn’t take pictures. 

“Dude.” Jake had said handing him a drink Oliver hadn’t seen anyone pour, “Fucking way more famous people than you or whatever got through college and no one saw them drink. You’re not that famous.” 

Except they did live with a Princess and Jake had befriended her with the pints of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream his parents had sent to him in a box packed with dry ice. 

Then their circle of friends had started to morph and Oliver hadn’t ever guessed it would be like this. That he’d be spending weekends in someone’s parents’ New York apartment. 

He’d spent the last two weekends five minutes away from his parents’ home in New York. 

“Hey!” Phillip says again, “My legs aren’t that long slow down.” 

Oliver shortens his strides and Phillip catches up to him. She still has to walk way faster than he does. 

“Take real people steps.” Oliver tells her. 

“I got breakfast.” She threatens, “So you can’t be a jerk.” 

Oliver looks down at her and notices that Phillip does. Her hands are full of muffins wrapped in napkins and a bowl full of cocoa puffs. 

“Jake is waiting for bacon.” She informs him. 

He had no idea that it would be like this. That friends would come this easy. That people would steal cocoa puffs for him just because he’d defended their name in the first Physics class of the year. 

“I’m Oliver.” He’d told the professor, “I think she’s Phillip.” 

“I’m Phillip.” She’d confirmed. 

“Where do you want to eat?” Phillip asks, “Where are you today?” 

Oliver slows down because she’s walking in front of him now to avoid the crowd of people heading towards class. 

“Oliver?” She turns around to face him, walking backwards. 

He grabs onto her shoulders guiding her through the crowd and guides her to a patch of grass under a tree. They sit down and he eats the cocoa puffs out of the bowl on her lap. 

“We have Physics.” He reminds her, “In ten minutes.” 

“Or you don’t go to physics.” Jake cuts in before sitting down with them, “And we do something else.”

He puts down a plate of bacon in the grass between them.

“I took a plate out of the dinning hall.” He shrugs while pointing to the non descript white china, “Like, we’re already rebels today.” 

Oliver doesn’t want to swim. When he thinks about it, he doesn’t want to go to Physics and he doesn’t want to do more homework. When he really thinks about it what he wants is to be home in Florida where it’s still warm. 

He’s thought of just buying a ticket. 

**Boston**

“Hey Bud, it’s Dad.” 

Michael’s hotel room looks like every other hotel room. His speech had gone over well but the questions afterwards had been hard to answer. How was Oliver now? What was his training regimen to get ready for the next Olympics? 

“Oliver.” Michael says impatiently like somewhere his son’s voicemail is blasting loudly from his phone. “Answer your phone. Talk to me.” 

“Oliver…” He pauses for a minute before he hangs up. 

He has no reason not to go back to Florida after Boston. 

Ryan won’t answer his phone either. 

Other people are answering their phones though. People Michael’s met over the years. People he’d met for drinks while fingering his wedding band and checking his phone to text Ryan.

It’s snowing in Boston and he wonders if it’s snowing at Harvard. He worries about Oliver wearing a jacket and being cold in his dorm room. Worries that his Floridian child who should have been raised in Baltimore won’t deal well with winter. 

He dials for Oliver again. 

**Harvard**

It’s 1 am when Oliver’s phone goes off for the fifth time that night. Jake isn’t in the room and Oliver is out of patience. He’d thought of powering down his phone earlier that evening but had kept it on in case Talan needed him. In case Evan tried to call. 

He watches it buzz on his nightstand and gets more and more infuriated until he finally grabs it. 

“Stop.” He says at his dad without checking that it’s him calling. 

“Oliver.” Michael sounds angry, “When someone leaves a message you-” 

“Where are you?” Oliver challenges, too angry to try and be polite. 

“I’m in Boston.” Michael says, his tone completely different. 

“Why aren’t you home?” Oliver implores, “It’s fucked you’re gone.” 

He hangs up and powers down his phone. 

Oliver is sweating even though the room is cold. He kicks his blankets off and grabs his phone. He walks by his books and through the common room. He goes into the hallway not bothering to put a shirt on. He hopes there are no lingering girls hanging around the hallway. 

He powers up his phone and dials home before he can think about it. Sinks down to the floor as the phone rings. It rings three times before someone answers. 

“Gator.” Ryan’s voice is tired, “Go back to bed.”

“Dad.” Oliver tries and is ashamed of how hearing Ryan’s voice makes him want to go home. 

“Oliver.” Ryan sounds more awake, “What’s wrong?” 

Oliver doesn’t know where to start. 

Michael would have already offered him a way home. Would have already been looking at plane tickets to get him back to Florida. If he hadn’t been so angry, Oliver could be packing his bags. 

“Ols.” Ryan says his name again, “Everything’s good. Tal’s good. The dogs are good. Your car’s good. You gotta sleep.” 

“I want-” Oliver starts and feels like a ten year old at sleep away camp. 

“Things seem bad when you don’t sleep.” Ryan reminds him, “Dude take your pills. You don’t got practice to wake up for just sleep.” 

The pills in question are in Oliver’s shaving kit. A skinny prescription bottle he hadn’t been allowed to touch during Rotterdam and that he’d always resisted taking. 

“I’ll talk to you until you sleep.” Ryan offers, “Come on.” 

Oliver stays on the floor in the hallway. 

“Oliver.” Ryan says and his voice isn’t as warm, “This isn’t a game you get to play. This isn’t a ticket home.”

“I-” 

“You’re gonna go take your pill.” Ryan fills in for him, “Then you’re gonna go to sleep.”

Oliver thinks of home. Of his bedroom and his dog. Of the beach and pizza night. He thinks of Talan’s makeshift bedroom downstairs and his parents fighting. He thinks of his locker at the Speed Club and having to explain to people that he’d left Harvard. 

He gets up. 

“Atta boy.” Ryan encourages.

**Florida**

It takes half an hour before Ryan is sure Oliver is asleep. He hangs up but forces himself to stay awake for another forty-five minutes in case Oliver calls back. He gets up and walks down stairs to go check on Talan. 

The door to Michael’s office is closed. He opens it carefully and Talan’s soft snoring confirms his other child is sleeping too. 

He silently walks into the room and turns the baby monitor Talan always turns off back on. 

Ryan goes back to his room – their room- and gets in the king size bed alone. Michael’s side is still made. Fussed a bit from when Talan had struggled upstairs and fallen asleep next to him a few days ago. 

“Don’t tell Dad I called.” Oliver had whispered sleepily right before falling asleep. 

It doesn’t feel like winning. 

The door to Michael’s closet is closed and there are no socks on the floor or shirts thrown over the end of the bed. Without Michael there to notice, he keeps the alcohol by his bed. He drinks from the bottle. 

Without Michael and Oliver the house feels too big. 

*

Ryan is hung over the next morning. 

Talan’s physiotherapy schedule is grueling. Between the actual physiotherapy, the swimming and his therapist appointments Ryan spends half his days driving to appointments, sitting in waiting rooms and meeting with doctors. He’s stopped trying to phone Michael in. 

Their housekeeper has written all the appointments down on the fridge calendar. With different colours and bright yellow sticky notes to jot down important details. There’s a medication schedule next to it and a list with phone numbers. 

Beside the fridge there’s a small pile of textbooks sent from school; work Talan is suppose to do to keep up. Ryan is supposed to look for and hire a tutor or look into home schooling or work a schedule for Talan to go back to school. 

He’s exhausted just looking at all of it. 

He forces himself to drink coffee and checks his watch impatiently. They’re running late. 

Talan’s progress is amazing. Watching him walk for the first time had made Ryan cry. No matter how tired he is Ryan refuses to not be there. Refuses to let Talan feel alone. 

He wishes Michael had upheld his end of the promise but is relieved Michael isn’t home. 

Talan walks with a cane. The dull thumping sound it makes against their hard wood floors is slowly driving Ryan crazy. 

Ryan hears Talan’s cane hit the wall and hears the dogs moving slowly to walk close to him. He hears Talan stop walking. 

“Talan.” Ryan yells. “Move it.”

“Woah.” Talan tells Ryan unimpressed, walking into the kitchen. “You know I move slow.” 

The change in Talan is also amazing. Without the cane Talan looks normal. His hair has grown back a fair bit and though it’s darker than it had been he looks like himself again.

“There’s moving slow and waking up late.” Ryan fills him in, “this is-” 

“I couldn’t sleep.” Talan says, leaning against the counter.

“You were sleeping when I checked up on you.” Ryan notes. “Why couldn’t you sleep?” 

“Why were you checking up on me?” Talan counters, eyebrow raised. “We got a deal.” 

Talan yawns and stretches both his hands over his head. His cane comes dangerously close to hitting the ceiling fan in their kitchen. 

“Talan.” Ryan warns wearily. 

“Okay.” Talan says impatiently, “Gimme a break.” 

Talan haunts the house. Getting him to leave is hard, getting him to do homework is hard, getting him to do his exercises is hard, getting him to sleep is hard, getting him to do anything at all is hard. 

Talan is slowly driving Ryan crazy. 

“You gotta eat breakfast before we go.” Ryan reminds him, “We got cereal.” 

“I gotta feed the dogs.” Talan insists, “I don’t want cereal.” 

“Talan.” Ryan says again. 

“Chill.” Talan rolls his eyes, “The dogs can’t feed themselves.” 

Talan is slow. Watching him try to move around is excruciating. 

“Don’t help.” Talan warns, looking back at Ryan like he senses his frustration, “I got this.” 

The dogs hover around Talan with their tails wagging. Hoops weaves through Talan’s legs and around his cane. Talan struggles to carry the bag with one hand and then spills more kibble around the bowls than in them. 

“Sorry guys.” He tells the dogs before bending down and trying to scoop more food into the bowls with his hands. “Hey woah watch it. Come on.” 

Ryan observes the mess and tries not to feel annoyed. Tries to think of anything other than the dogs pushing an already unsteady Talan around. 

Bert pushes Hoops who turns back and tangles himself between Talan’s legs. Talan side steps and wobbles. His cane falling beside him. 

“Shit.” 

Talan drops the bag and kibble spills out everywhere. He reaches for the wall to steady himself but it isn’t enough. He falls on top of the spilled kibbles, between all the dogs and spills two water bowls. 

“Talan!” Ryan snaps.

“Shut up.” Talan snaps back. “Shut up.” 

Ryan closes his eyes before walking over. He holds his hand out to help Talan up but Talan refuses. 

“Don’t.” Talan says quiet, “Just gimme my cane.” 

“The dogs shouldn’t be in here.” Ryan says frustrated, “They don’t-” 

Talan shoots him another glare and Ryan stops talking. Instead he picks up the over turned water dishes and reaches for a dish towel to throw over the mess. 

“Someone will clean this up.” He tells his kid, “Want coffee?” 

Talan nods and reaches for his cane and gets up. He walks to the breakfast nook and sits down. His walker and the wheelchair he’d used are still leaned up against the back door. 

As Ryan pours Talan a cup of coffee he remembers his dad yelling at him for doing dumb things. For getting hurt. For dislocating a shoulder, getting concussions and needing stitches. Yelling in emergency rooms until nurses threatened to kick him out. 

“Dude.” He tells Talan putting the coffee cup in front of him, “I don’t want you hurt.” 

“I’m not hurt.” Talan corrects him before pouring what seems like half the sugar dispenser into his cup. 

“Okay.” Ryan agrees. 

They drink coffee in silence. 

“This place is gross.” Talan comments after awhile “Dad comes back and he’s gonna be pissed.” 

“I’m the clean one.” Ryan reminds his youngest. “Your dad can’t even find the laundry basket.” 

“Right.” Talan rolls the word out sarcastically. 

“We’ll get someone here to clean.” Ryan promises propping his feet up on the wheelchair. “You still use this thing?” 

“No.” Talan answers insulted. “But Dad said we’d burn it.”

“It’s rented.” Ryan notes, kicking the neon green tag hanging from the handle.

“Dad said we’d burn it.” Talan repeats, “Where’s he anyways?” 

“Boston, I think.” Ryan answers quickly. “Business.”

“Right.” Talan agrees, “I’m expensive.” 

His words hurt. They remind Ryan of the fights about the medical bills Michael and him had on one of Michael’s short visits home. That Michael wasn’t trying to be away but that someone had to do something to pay the bills. 

“It ain’t like that.” Ryan denies. “You weren’t-” 

“I heard though.” Talan shrugs, “I get it.” 

Silence engulfs the kitchen again. 

“I miss ‘em.” Talan grumbles. 

**New York**

After Boston, Michael goes back to New York. 

There’s a little over a week left until Thanksgiving and Talan’s birthday. Oliver’s flight home has been booked since August. In August, Thanksgiving weekend had been the light at the end of the tunnel.

In New York he goes out to dinner with friends and over entrées and drinks he finds himself laughing hard with the man sitting next to him. 

They kiss outside another restaurant a day later. Michael had invited him. He’d made reservations. 

Michael gets him home and he realizes it’s all wrong. 

Michael regrets it just as soon as it happens. As soon as he’s leading him into the house and into their lives. Past the family pictures and Talan’s skateboard he hasn’t been able to move. He feels grimy standing in their kitchen with him. Beside the landline phone with it’s flashing new voicemail light. 

He hasn’t called home since Boston, hasn’t checked on Talan’s progress in weeks. 

The spacious kitchen seems too small. The guy’s hand brushes his hip to get to the wine bottle on the counter. A bottle Michael had put there earlier that evening. A wine bottle and two glasses.

They’re all going to be together in Florida for Thanksgiving, the boys and the dogs and Ryan and him. The kitchen in Florida will be busy and Oliver and Talan will fight. Ryan will make pancakes. 

“Relax.” He’s told, “Drink?” 

“No.” Michael holds a hand up. “This can’t- You have to go.”

“We just got here.” The guy says and he angles his body towards Michael, effectively blocking a family picture propped up on the counter. 

*

“What are we even going to do with them?” 

Oliver ducks his head against the wind. They’d left Cambridge for the weekend but the weather was way worse in New York. 

Phillips parents were away in Europe and they’d crashed their house. Filling the empty fridge with take out and pilfering through her dad’s wine cellar. It was their Thanksgiving they said. The one with the family they’d made since the start of the year. 

Jake, Phillip and him had left the others behind and headed out on foot towards his parents’ place in a medal rescue mission.

“What?” Jake says catching up with him, “The wind, I can’t hear.” 

“He wants to know what you want to do with his medals.” Phillip fills in from Oliver’s other side. 

They’re walking three by three on the sidewalks, getting dirty looks from the other people around them. They’ve been day drinking and Oliver still feels drunk. He hadn’t really wanted to go grab his medals but he’d wanted to get outside. 

“You’re the one who wanted the medals.” Jake tells her. “It was your idea.” 

“I think he should have them.” Phillip argues, “They’re his and they’re sitting there.” 

“Because I left them there.” Oliver speaks louder than before, “It’s not like someone took them.” 

“Feel like you should have them.” Phillip repeats. 

“Last time we saw my brother’s medal it was in the back of my mom’s van.” Jake volunteers. “He doesn’t give-” 

“No the point.” Phillip interrupts him but stops talking when the wind blows hair into her mouth, “Ugh. The point is that you live like five minutes away and you-”

“She just wants to wear ‘em.” Jake laughs, “It’s not about you.” 

“There’s nothing really up there.” Oliver points out, “Definitely no food. I’m not supposed to have keys.”

“None of us are suppose to have keys.” Phillip reminds him, “My parents think I’m part of a photography society.” 

“My parents don’t care.” Jake shrugs. “We can go to Vermont whenever.” 

Talan had mailed him the keys after Oliver had told him about their weekends. The keys had come in an awkwardly wrapped care package with doodles drawn all over it. 

“How d’your parents feel about us crashing?” Phillip asks even though the answer didn’t really matter. 

“Hate it.” Oliver laughs at the thought, “Who cares though my family’s fucked.” 

“Join the club.” Phillip fake cheers. 

“I think.” Oliver keeps going, “My dad’s the one telling the coach to come see me. He’s pissed I quit.” 

He hasn’t said this to anyone. Hasn’t admitted to feeling like a disappointment. 

“I go and go and go.” He can’t stop the words, “and it’s never enough like-” 

“Fuck him.” Phillip says exuberant, “Let’s steal their liquor.” 

Jake shoves an open flask into Oliver’s chest. The liquid splashes on his coat before he grabs it and takes a sip. He doesn’t know what it is but it burns on the way down. 

They stop at a crosswalk, three figures side by side on the still busy New York sidewalks. The wind howls and drifts of snow twirl around them. 

“We go left I think.” Oliver says. 

*

They get to the building and Oliver pushes off his hat and his hood and offers the doorman his biggest and soberest looking smile.

“Oliver Phelps-Lochte.” Phillip declares, sticking to his side and dragging Jake along with her. “Has a key.”

“Yeah.” Oliver keeps talking even though they’ve long since cleared the front door, “It’s cool we’re here.” 

They burst out laughing in the elevator and it feels good.

“My parents never even use this place.” Oliver babbles on their way out, “Like my dad bought it to show my other dad he was serious about getting married then they never lived here.” 

He unlocks the door and doesn’t notice the alarm has already been disarmed. He drops the keys on the floor and doesn’t bother taking his shoes off. 

“I left them in the kitchen.” He says, “They’re probably still there.” 

“Where’s the kitchen?” Jake asks. 

“Um, the other end.” Oliver draws out an imaginary blue print in the air between them and points to a spot to his left. “We’re here.” 

“Where’s the booze?” Phillip asks. 

“Here.” Oliver points to another spot opposite from the kitchen. “Through there.” He motions right. 

It’s like a secret mission. 

 

“Meet back here.” He tells them, “I’ll be the guy with the medals.” 

Oliver makes it up the hallway and through the living room before he hears voices. 

“We just got here.” The voice says and it doesn’t belong to anyone Oliver knows. 

He hears wine glasses clinking against each other and a bottle opening. 

*

“It’s not-” Michael’s voice starts. 

He watches the man fill up the first wine glass and knows he has to start saying full sentences. 

Michael grabs the wine bottle before the man starts filling up the second one. 

“I’m married.” He delivers the line like it’s brand new information. Something he’s just remembered.

“That didn’t matter half an hour ago.” The man reminds him, still intimately close “It didn’t matter-” 

“You have to leave.” Michael says his voice stronger now. “This was a-”

Michael hears steps coming down the hallway before he finishes his sentence. He looks away from the man and pass the kitchen island. He recognizes Oliver’s walk before he sees him. 

“Oliver.” He calls out as half a warning.

But Oliver walks in. 

Michael hasn’t seen his kid since they’d left him at Harvard. Oliver looks the same. His hair is shaggy and there’s still snow on his coat. 

“Ols.” Michael says again, taking a step closer to him and away from the man who shouldn’t be in their kitchen.

“What the fuck.” Oliver looks confused for half a second. Michael sees him eye the glasses of wine and then he’s angry. “Who the fuck is that?” 

It doesn’t take much more convincing. The man leaves the wine glasses on the island and leaves the kitchen. 

 

“Stay.” Michael speaks firmly. He’s afraid Oliver is the next one to leave. 

“What-” Oliver starts, his voice still angry. He looks devastated. 

“Oliver don’t-” Michael stops short because he doesn’t know how to finish his sentence. 

“Don’t what?” Oliver sneers, “Don’t tell Dad? Don’t-” 

“Nothing happened.” Michael stammers a defense, “It was a mistake. I-” 

“You think I’m dumb?” Oliver’s voice gets louder, “You think I’m gonna fucking believe you?

Oliver doesn’t finish his sentence and Michael knows better than to reach out for him. He remembers how Oliver had swung at Ryan in the hospital. 

“You ain’t even gonna talk?” Oliver challenges. His speech pattern mimicking Ryan’s.

“What you saw.” Michael tries to explain, “It wasn’t-” 

“You left Dad and Talan in Florida to fucking do this?!” Oliver accuses, “To cheat on Dad?” 

Michael risks taking a step towards his son but Oliver backs up right away. 

“Tal misses you.” Oliver yells. “He’s alone with Dad and Dad ain’t-” 

“Isn’t what?” 

“Like you fucking care.” Oliver refuses to answer, “What were you gonna do? Go back for Thanksgiving like it’s cool like this isn’t fucking-”

“Oliver.” Michael tries to sound calm. 

“Nah.” Oliver shakes his head, “You don’t get to-” 

He walks out of the kitchen and Michael follows him. 

“Oliver.” 

“What?” Oliver doesn’t turn around. 

“Stay.” Michael almost begs, “You’re here.” 

“Ols?” A girl’s voice rings out across the hallway and Oliver turns to look at her. 

Michael sees the two other kids, a girl he’s never met and Oliver’s roommate. Both of them are grim faced. 

“Just go.” His roommate says when he sees Oliver hesitate. “Just go.” 

“Go where?” Michael asks because once upon a time Oliver had needed his permission to leave. Because it’s hard not knowing where Oliver is. Because he doesn’t know when he’ll see Oliver again. 

He doesn’t get an answer. The girl grips the sleeve of Oliver’s coat and pulls him towards the door fast. Behind them, his roommate grabs a backpack and follows. The door slams shut. 

*

They cross the street to Central Park and Oliver lets Phillip drag him. She has a death grip on his hand and her legs are moving faster than Oliver thought was possible. 

“He didn’t follow us.” She says, “We’re okay.” 

She pulls him down to sit beside her on a rock and keeps holding his hand. Oliver feels Jake sit on his other side.

“You think he’ll come looking for you?” Jake says to break the silence. 

Oliver manages to nod even though he feels numb. 

“We’ll get a cab.” Phillip decides, “He doesn’t know where you are.” 

Oliver follows them. He takes another drink from the flask Jake offers and gets into the cab. They’re stuck in traffic. Oliver’s phone keeps going off and he’s tempted to throw it out of the window. 

“Block his number.” Jake suggests. “Give it to me.” 

Oliver hands it over right away. 

“That was fucked.” Jake says, busily deleting messages and voicemails.

“Yeah.” Oliver agrees, “And I gotta go home for Thanksgiving. My flight’s Tuesday.” 

“I don’t want to go home.” Oliver admits to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Your comments mean everything to me. I am so grateful you are all still reading. 
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you. 
> 
> <3


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read the chapter notes at the end. 
> 
> Thank you <3

  
**Saturday, November 20th**  
  
Oliver’s roommate, the one with the famous brother, slams the door and the sound reverberates through the penthouse. It takes Michael a second to react and that second is all it takes for him to miss the elevator.  
  
He doesn’t stop to grab a coat or to lock the door before he runs after Oliver.  
  
By the time Michael reaches the lobby Oliver and his friends have already left the building. Michael jogs three blocks one way before he doubles back and jogs three more in the opposite direction. Oliver isn’t anywhere.  
  
Michael stops in front of a sidewalk and calls Oliver while he tries to catch his breath. He dials over and over again and every time Oliver’s phone rings until Michael gets his son’s already full mailbox.  
  
Then Oliver’s phone stops ringing and all Michael hears is the dial tone.  
  
Oliver is ignoring him.  
  
Oliver is talking to someone else.  
  
The thought of Oliver calling Ryan makes Michael feel sick.  
  
By the time the nausea fades a little he’s standing smack in the middle of a New York City sidewalk. He isn’t wearing a coat. He steps inside of a Starbucks; absentmindedly gets in line and continues calling Oliver.  
  
“Tal misses you.” Oliver had yelled. “He’s alone with Dad and Dad ain’t-”  
  
Michael knows what Ryan isn’t.  
  
“What can I get for you?”  
  
The question startles him and the bored barista looks at him expectantly.  
  
“Nothing.” He answers, because what he wants isn’t coffee.  
  
Michael walks out of the Starbucks. He retraces his steps back home and slinks into the building without making eye contact with the doorman.  
  
He puts the wine glasses in the dishwasher and pours the rest of the wine down the drain.  
  
He thinks of Thanksgiving and Talan’s birthday and being in the same house as Ryan. He thinks of Oliver’s flight landing on Tuesday. Oliver wouldn’t miss Thanksgiving or Talan’s birthday. As much as Oliver refuses to talk to him now, Michael knows Oliver and he knows Oliver will come home.    
  
He’s been too afraid to call Florida. Too afraid to go back home and fight with Ryan and deal with the state of their marriage.  
  
He’d cheated.  
  
To see Oliver, he needs to go back to Florida.  
  
*  
  
Jake, Phillip and Oliver return to Phillip’s house with the liquor but no medals.  
  
“Just come home with me.” Jake repeats his offer as they get out of the cab “Danny’s coming home. We have extra rooms. My mom’s gonna love it. She likes when there’s people-”  
  
“Nah.” Oliver cuts him off because he doesn’t know if he’s ready to completely blow off Florida yet, “It’s Tal’s birthday.”  
  
“You can’t go home.” Phillip jumps in, “You go and everyone pretend things are okay? You know it’s not. That’s what drives you crazy.”  
  
Oliver nods. He feels shell-shocked. While he appreciates his friends’ solutions he wishes they would just stop. He wishes they hadn’t been there. He feels embarrassed and like he’s five.  
  
 Phillip unlocks the front door and pushes him in ahead of her. They’ve turned the heat all the way up because their dorm rooms always feel cold.  
  
It’s Saturday. They’ve been planning a Thanksgiving family dinner all week. Deciding their menu and trying to figure out who can cook what. Oliver is responsible for the mashed potatoes. Phillip’s roommate Lauren had been elected to cook the turkey. They’d stopped for groceries on the way from Harvard.  
  
Oliver’s been looking forward to it since the idea had first been brought up.  
  
“It’s family dinner tonight.” Phillip says like she can read his mind, “It’ll feel better after that.”  
  
“I’m gonna go-“ He starts pointing up the stairs to the room where he’s sleeping.  
  
“No way.” Jake shakes his head, “We’re peeling potatoes.”  
  
Oliver is pretty sure mashed potatoes isn’t a two man job but he doesn’t really have that much experience in the kitchen. He watches Jake pull the flask from the coat of his pocket and takes it from him.  
  
“I just want to-“ Oliver tries to explain.  
  
“No way.” Jake repeats, “Kitchen.”  
  
Jake grabs Oliver’s sleeve and pulls him towards the kitchen.  
  
“Sit” Jake instructs pointing at the table, “I’ll get potatoes.”  
  
Jake drops a bag of potatoes in front of Oliver and the sound of it hitting the wooden table makes a loud thud.  He hands Oliver the flask and a  peeler before sitting in front of him.  
  
“We peel?” Jake guesses.  
  
“You peel.” Another one of Phillip’s suite mates answers for them.  
  
Oliver tries hard to forget. He tries not to think about Thanksgiving and having to be in the same house as both of his parents. He tries not to notice that things in the house are quieter and his friends are more careful around him. He wonders how Phillip and Jake had managed to tell the others what had happened without him noticing.  
  
Once they’ve emptied the flask there’s a pile of peeled potatoes between them. It’s so tall Oliver can only see the upper half of Jake’s face.  
  
“What if we’re short?” Oliver jokes.  
  
They’d bought a lot of potatoes. Probably way more than they needed for themselves. Probably way more than anyone needed for Thanksgiving. The cashier at the grocery store in Bridgeport had looked at them like they were crazy.  
  
“I’ll grab more.” Jake decides.  
  
“You won’t be short.” Lauren, the one responsible for the turkey, hands Oliver a mug.  
  
“I don’t think I should drink more.” Oliver says.  
  
“It’s just coffee.” She explains, “No sugar, two milks.”  
  
“Thanks.” Oliver answers,  
  
Even though he drinks his coffee with two sugars and two milks he puts down the peeler and takes a sip.  
  
“Your dad’s a jerk.” She offers sympathetically. “I always-”  
  
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Oliver interrupts her, “No offense.”  
  
She sits beside him quiet.  
  
“If you want to be alone-”  
  
“No.” Oliver answers quickly, “I don’t.”  
  
It feels good to be sitting close to someone. He feels her moving closer to him. Her knee touches his while strands of her blonde hair brush against his sweater.  
  
“How’s the turkey?” Oliver asks to change the subject.  
  
“I don’t know.” She shrugs, “I just put it in. Now we wait.”  
  
“It smells good.” He says.  
  
“Thanks.” She smiles and squeezes his arm.  
  
Oliver feels miles away from what had happened earlier. He picks up his peeler and another potato and keeps working.  
  
By the time dinner is ready, his arm is resting around Lauren’s shoulders and her hand strokes his leg. It feels nice and warm and Oliver doesn’t want to be anywhere other than exactly where he is.  
  
Whoever had been in charge of setting the table had made cardboard placeholders out of children’s construction paper they’d found in the basement. A snowflake for Jake, a tiara for the princess, a turkey for Lauren and a yellow cardboard gold medal for Oliver.  
  
“It’s some of my best work-” Phillip had said dramatically, “and the wine. Choosing the wine.”  
  
Phillip is busy with a corkscrew and a few faded looking bottles of wine. Once the first bottle is uncorked she goes around and starts filling glasses. Like this is Sunday night dinner. Like they’re all dressed up instead of being in sweat pants and pajamas.  
  
“Give me your glasses.” Phillip reaches between Lauren and Oliver to grab their wine glasses. She fills them too full and returns them to the table. Wine sloshes over the edge of the glasses and stains the tablecloth.  
  
“I will trade you a turkey for a gold medal.” Lauren proclaims, holding up her placeholder close to Oliver’s face.  
   
Oliver takes a sip of his wine to bring the liquid down to a more manageable level and considers Lauren’s offer.  
   
“I have too many of these anyways.” Oliver ceremoniously drops his cardboard medal next to her plate.  
  
Sitting here with his friends means more to him than sitting at home. He’s glad they hadn’t gotten the medals. He doesn’t care to see or to wear them again.  
  
From where he’s sitting at the head of the table, Jake stands up and holds up his glass. Lauren reaches for her glass and wine spills on both her and Oliver.  
  
“Shit!” She laughs and grabs a napkin to dab at Oliver’s thigh, “We can change after.”  
  
Jake clears his throat looking pointedly in their direction. Once the room is quiet enough to his liking he starts to talk.  
  
“I love you guys.” He cheers to the table, “You’re family.”  
  
Oliver clinks his glass with everyone close to him and gets up in order to reach Jake. When he sits back down he turns to Lauren and kisses her.  
  
She wraps her arms around his neck and he feels wine drip down his back. He laughs against her mouth and pulls away.  
  
“Come on!” Phillip throws a napkin at them from across the table, “This is a nice dinner!”  
  
“I’ve had the worst day.” He calls back.  
  
He’s happy.  
  
He kisses Lauren again, one hand in her hair and the other reaching to make sure her wine glass doesn’t tip over again.  
  
By the end of the meal she’s sitting on his lap and he’s buzzed and not thinking about anything other than her side pressed against his chest and her hand kneading the back of his neck.  
  
“Hey,” She tells him, her wine glass still dangerously close to spilling over. She motions between the both of them “Don’t let it go to your head.”  
  
Oliver laughs, he reaches for her wrist and tips her glass back up.  
  
“You’re kind of overrated.” She laughs back, “There’s not even a pool.”  
  
“Yeah? Got gold medals?” He answers like it may matter.  
  
“Yeah one.” She points to the cardboard placeholder. “You just have a turkey.”  
  
  
**Sunday, November 21st**  
  
Oliver sleeps.  
  
He wakes up alone in the late morning to the sound of a house full of people. He hears a kettle whistling and a soccer game blasting from a television. The sheets on the space beside him are still ruffled from where Lauren had slept.  
  
It’s still snowing outside. When he checks his phone, the countdown he’d set up months ago until his flight for Thanksgiving notifies him that it’s now under two days.  
  
He stops the countdown.  
  
He finds his sweatpants but not his shirt and heads down to the kitchen.  
  
Lauren is sitting with Jake at the kitchen island, she’s wearing Oliver’s Nationals t-shirt.  
  
“We’re making waffles.” A guy who played water polo with Jake calls out.  
  
“There’s coffee.” Lauren adds.  
  
“Grab me some.” Jake request holding out his still mostly filled cup.  
  
“This is serious.” Phillip says to no one in particular from her spot close to the windows, “What if we get snowed in?”  
  
It’s exactly what Oliver wanted. He grabs the coffee pot and a new cup and makes his way over to Lauren and Jake. He refills both their cups before filling his own. He leaves the coffee pot in front of them.  
  
“Thanks.” Jake reaches for the sugar and hands it to Oliver, “When’s your flight home?”  
  
“I’m not going.” Oliver says paying more attention to measuring spoonful of sugar for his coffee.  
  
“Don’t blame you.” Jake agrees.  
  
“Whatever.” Phillip continues even if no one is really listening, “Then we stay here.”  
  
Oliver adds milk to his coffee and then raises his cup in her general direction. It’s the best idea he’s heard so far this morning.  
  
Monday, November 22nd  
  
Talan wakes up late.  
  
Too late to catch the bus and he’s definitely not in shape to bike to school.  
  
“Ugh.” He groans, shoving the useless vintage teenage mutant ninja turtle alarm clock away from him. “Fuck.”  
  
He listens and the house is quiet. It’s nine and no one else is up.  
  
Talan knows where he’ll find Ryan. He doesn’t need to walk across the hall to his dad’s bedroom to know what he’ll find. He figures there’s an empty bottle of something in the kitchen or crushed up beer cans in the sink.  
  
Talan knows he has a full day. He has school and then swimming. He’s meant to go to a basketball team meeting and hand in an essay.  
  
He’s pretty sure Ryan won’t be able to drive him.  
  
“Whatever.” Talan debates what to do, “Fuck it.”  
  
Talan had often imagined what it would have been like to not have to go to school. He imagined days spent playing video games and surfing. Fucking around with Brady. Pretty much never ending summer  
  
Then he’d come home from the hospital and he hadn’t been able to go to school. He hadn’t been able to walk. He hadn’t been able to get to the beach or to stay awake long enough to play video games.  
  
His classwork and homework had come to him and he’d had to work on it with a tutor. More often than not though he was too tired and too drugged up on painkillers to get anything done.  
  
He’d been so bored.  
  
For the first two months of school Talan had only seen the house, the pool and doctors’ offices. He’d been so bored he had started to look forward to the pool because there at least he had Brady and sometimes on weekends he had Evan.  
  
He’d tried hard to not be angry that Oliver had never come home to swim with him. He’d tried even harder to not be angry with Michael for the same reason.  
  
Talan tries hard to ignore what’s happening at home. Tries to pretend things are normal. He pretends not to notice the empty bottles and or to ask too many questions. Once he’s in bed, he tries really hard not to listen to what’s happening. In the morning he tries to pretend he can’t notice Ryan is hung-over.  
  
Oliver is usually pretty good at answering his phone but over the weekend he stops. It’s almost Thanksgiving and Talan’s been secretly counting down the days until Oliver comes home.  
  
Talan figures that with everyone home things can feel normal again.  
  
His birthday is Wednesday. No one seems to have anything planned. Before, in Rotterdam, they’d talked about car shopping and a beach party. Talan wants a pickup and his dads had promised they would help him find one.  
  
It’s hard to deal with how different things are.  
  
Instead of getting ready for school Talan goes downstairs. He grabs cold pizza from the fridge, let’s the dogs out and after he’s turned on the coffee maker he hobbles down the back stairs after them.  
  
He settles himself on a beat up beach chair near the sand to watch the waves.  
  
It feels like no one cares.  
  
*    
  
Before.  
  
Before when the kids had been young coming home after trips had been like breathing fresh air. Michael remembers Ryan picking him up at the airport with a baby Talan sleeping in his camouflage print baby wrap and a toddler Oliver gripping a messily made sign. He would cut trips short to come home early when the boys had been sick.  Before, travelling had been hard because he’d wanted to be home more than anywhere else in the world. To be with Ryan regardless of where they were because Ryan was home base.  
  
Michael knows that if he isn’t in Florida for Thanksgiving his family probably won’t ever forgive him. In Florida, Oliver can’t ignore him.  
  
As much as he dreads this trip, home feels like home. As the car makes it’s way down their street Michael feels relieved.  
  
Ryan’s car is parked crooked.  
  
Ryan always parks in the garage. Ever since they’d lived together, ever since they’d started visiting each other before living together Ryan had always insisted on parking his car in the garage. Oliver had been allowed to drive months before getting his license just so he could move the cars around to get Ryan’s car in the garage.  
  
Michael frowns.  
  
He grabs his bag off the seat next to him and gets out of the car before the driver has a chance to come open his door. He gets his suitcase from the back and heads to the front door without waving the driver off.  
  
The front door is unlocked and right away he notices the mess.  
  
Their mudroom is usually chaotic. There are always shoes and backpacks and leashes and gym bags. There are usually a bike helmet and goggles. Coming in through the front door is usually an adventure.  
  
Now everything seems to have multiplied. There are pizza boxes and Talan’s wheelchair. The recycling bin is overflowing. Unopened packages are stacked high.  
  
No one greets him.    
  
“OLIVER?” He calls out. He drops his bags amongst the mess, kicks a pair of Ryan’s sneakers out of the way and steps into the hallway.  
  
He doesn’t get an answer. He takes a few steps further and waits. Waits for someone to notice him. Waits for Ryan to pop out of the kitchen. Waits to hear Oliver and Talan’s stomping steps running down the stairs.  
  
“OLS?” He yells out again before the dogs have even realized he’s home.  
  
“Dad?” Talan calls back. “Dad?”  
  
“Talan?” Michael answers. “Come here.”  
  
“No come to me.” Talan demands, “I’m slow.”  
  
Talan is sitting on the couch, a cane on the floor in front of him. There’s a half full cereal bowl and a bag of Doritos on the coffee table. He’s wearing pyjama pants and no shirt.  
  
“Where’s Oliver?” Michael asks.  
  
“Is he here?” Talan cranes his neck like maybe he’d just missed him. He doesn’t bother pausing his video game.  
  
“Is he?” Michael asks again.  
  
“I dunno.” Talan answers slowly.  
  
“Where’s Dad?” Michael keeps asking questions.  
  
“Um sleeping.” Talan answers starting to sound annoyed. “I think.”  
  
Michael knows this is his house and yet things don’t feel normal or real. Like he’s stepped into a different dimension where everything has gone to shit. He hasn’t even said hi to Talan yet.  
  
Instead of returning to normal. Instead of greeting his kid and asking him how he’s doing and admitting he’s missed him Michael just keeps asking questions. Like maybe Talan has the key to make this entire mess make sense.  
  
“What are you doing?”  
  
“Xbox.” Talan says carefully, holding up his controller. “Madden.”  
  
“This house is a mess.” Michael states the obvious.  
  
“I know.” Talan agrees, “Dad says someone’s gonna clean it up.”    
  
“You done?” Michael points to the bowl of cereal and the Doritos.  
  
“Ain’t mine.” Talan answers returning his full attention to the screen. “Milk has puss in it.”  
  
Michael picks up the bowl and the bag like the two items will suddenly vastly improve the cleanliness level of their house. He walks into the kitchen to be greeted by another incredibly disgusting space.  
  
Ryan isn’t like this. Ryan likes when things are organized and clean. Ryan is the one who insists dirty clothes go into hampers and dishes go into the dishwasher. None of this is like Ryan.  
  
“Why’s Dad sleeping?” Michael yells out from the kitchen.  
  
“I don’t know.” Talan says aggravated. “Why you bugging me?”  
  
Michael chooses to ignore his son’s last sentence. He puts the dishes in the sink because the dishwasher is too full. He starts the dishwasher and squeezes some dish soap in the sink for good measure.  
  
There’s an empty Captain Crunch cereal box on the counter. The bottom of it is soggy from the water over flowing from the sink. Michael picks it up to throw it out and finds an empty liquor bottle hiding behind it.  
  
“Tal misses you.” Oliver had yelled. “He’s alone with Dad and Dad ain’t-”  
  
Michael had believed Ryan instead of believing Oliver. He had ignored several months worth of moments that had lead to believe Ryan had a problem in order to stick to his husband’s side.  
  
Michael opens the fridge and finds it mostly empty. There’s orange juice, pizza boxes and Gatorade.  
  
The television in the living room shuts off and the  sound of the dogs’ nails on their ceramic floor is Michael’s first clue that Talan is heading towards him. He grabs the bottle quickly and throws it in the trash.  
  
“When’s Miss C coming back?” Talan asks, “I miss her food.”  
  
“After Christmas.” Michael answers.  
  
Michael turns around and sees Talan walking into the kitchen without his cane. He’s holding onto the table for support but he’s walking on his own.  
  
“Woah.” He closes the empty fridge and turns towards Talan, “Look at you.”  
  
_“Mike.” Ryan had yelled, “Here. Now.”_  
  
_Michael was in their bathroom brushing his teeth. Ryan’s voice was coming from the hallway, maybe one of the boys’ bedrooms._  
  
_“AHM BWUHING-” Michael had started to yell back._  
  
_“Baby’s got something to show you. Come on MP.”_  
  
_So Michael had walked out of their bathroom with a towel wrapped around his hips and  with his toothbrush still in his mouth._  
  
_“In here.” Ryan had called out._  
  
_He’d found them in Talan’s bedroom; Ryan kneeling on the floor and an almost two year old Talan standing precariously by himself a foot away from Ryan._  
  
_“Yeah dude,” Ryan had cheered,  “Go see your Dad.”_  
  
_Talan had swayed forward before turning his head to look at Ryan._  
  
_“Don’t look at me dude you’re the one who’s gotta do this. Go see your Dad.”_  
  
_Michael’s mouth had been filled with toothpaste. He’d kneeled down and held out one arm to his youngest._  
  
_“Maybe if we had goldfish crackers.” Ryan theorized, looking at Talan frozen between them._  
  
_“’Ees ‘ot a ‘og.” Michael had uttered._  
  
_He’d put down the arm with the toothbrush too, extending both his arms towards Talan._  
  
_“Go see Daddy Baby.” Ryan had kept encouraging, “You can do it.”_  
  
_The toothbrush had captured Talan’s attention and carefully he’d taken one tiny step forward and then another. He’d taken three before Michael reached out to grab him._  
  
_“Yo he’s walking!” Ryan had cheered triumphantly. “He’s walking.”_  
  
“Oh yeah.” Talan smiles, wrenching Michael from his daydream, “I got this.”  
  
Michael doesn’t know how he missed this.  
  
“Babe.” Michael says softly.  
  
He loves Talan.  
  
He remembers how scared he’d been flying back with him from Costa Rica. How scary it had been to think of losing him. How hurtful it had been to not be able to help Talan like Ryan could and to hear him cry out for Ryan.  
  
“I fall a lot.” Talan admits, “I should use my cane.”  
  
“You’re doing so good.” Michael praises, “I’m so proud.”  
  
Talan shrugs off the compliment.  
  
“It’s my birthday Wednesday.” Talan changes the subject. “That why you came home?”  
  
“Yeah.” Michael says and hopes he sounds earnest. He hopes Ryan has something planned.  
  
“We still haven’t gone to look for a pick up.” Talan reminds him. “You promised me when you thought I was dying.”  
  
“That’s not funny Tal.”  
  
“I mean I made it.” Talan rolls his eyes at him in a way Michael is sure is locked into the Lochte DNA.     
  
“No.” Michael shakes his head, “That’s not something we’re going to joke about.”  
  
Talan shrugs again and walks over to the calendar.  
  
“Ols ain’t coming ‘til tomorrow.” Talan points to tomorrow’s date, “It’s on here.”  
  
“I knew that.” Michael closes his eyes for a second, “I bought the ticket.”  
  
Talan struggles a little to turn back towards him. His hand tries to grab the wall before he stumbles a bit and catches the table to steady himself. He makes his way around the table and to the kitchen island. He walks until he’s at the fridge closer to Michael.  
  
“D’you only come home ‘cause Ols is coming?”  
  
Talan looks devastated. Michael takes another look around the disastrous kitchen, at the empty bottles by the sink. He thinks of the half empty fridge and of Talan playing Madden alone at eleven in the morning on a Monday.  
  
He hates himself. He hates Ryan.  
  
“Nah Baby.” He says, “I miss you.”  
  
Michael hugs Talan. He can feel Talan hang on a little more tightly than he usually does, leaning more of his body weight on him. He lets go of his kid more carefully than he usually does too; making sure Talan is steady on his feet before completely letting go.  
  
“I’m gonna go find your dad.” He tells Talan, “Then we’ll go look at cars.”  
  
“I gotta go swim later.” Talan cautions, “With Brady.”  
  
“I’ll bring you to the pool.” Michael adds to their list, “Anywhere else?”  
  
“Probably groceries.” Talan points to the fridge, “I’m tired of pizza.”  
  
“Alright.” Michael nods, “Get ready.”  
   
*  
  
Michael finds alcohol everywhere.  
  
He finds half empty cans of pop filled with vodka outside near the pool. He finds empty bottles in the garage and in the bathroom of their master bedroom.  
  
He stands at the foot of their bed staring at the blanket covered lump that is Ryan for a few minutes feeling his anger boil up before he decides to wake him up.  
  
“Ryan.” He shoves at his husband’s shoulder, “Wake up.”  
  
He gets nothing.  
  
“Wake up.” Michael grabs the blankets and pulls them off. When that doesn’t get a reaction he throws the comforter on the floor.  
  
Ryan mutters something and turns over on his side; he’s still fully dressed. Shoes and all.  
  
Michael has collected enough drunken Ryan experiences over the years to know what he’s dealing with.  
  
“Perfect.” He shoves at his husband again and gets no reaction, “Fucking perfect.”  
  
Michael stands on Ryan’s side of the bed, the side of the bed Ryan had slept on their first night together that had somehow stuck, and fumes.  
  
He’s been angry with Ryan a lot over the past thirty years they’ve known each other. However, he’s sure this is a new low.  
  
*  
  
Instead of going back to Harvard Oliver walks through Central Park. All his things are in his backpack and he’s not really sure where to go. He has an idea and it involves the cash in his wallet because if he uses his credit card then his parents will know where he is.  
  
He walks because he’s afraid of getting recognized on the subway. The snow has stopped but it still coats the ground and the cold seeps through his sneakers. He pulls his hat lower over his face not against the cold but against stares.  
  
He walks past the information kiosk and a hill where people are already sledding. He watches kids have snowball fights and bail off of toboggans. He keeps walking.  
  
He doesn’t go near the skating rink or the zoo and he manages to make his way through the park and back on the other end of Central Park at 59th Street and decides to keep walking.  
  
He could take a cab but he decides to save his money for later. He buys a coffee, keeps his head down and continues his trek.  
  
By the time he gets to Penn station he can barely feel his feet. His shoes are soaked with slush and his face is frozen.  
  
The next train to Baltimore leaves in an hour. Penn Station to Penn Station. He buys a ticket and another coffee and sits to wait.  
  
He sleeps some more on the train, using his coat as a blanket and headphones to drown out everything. He doesn’t let himself think about the plane ticket he has no intention of using.  
  
Oliver’s cab pulls up to his grandparents’ house right before dinner. He’d debated between his aunt and his grandparents and at the last minute chosen his grandparents.  
  
His grandfather opens the door before Oliver is done paying the cab driver.  
  
“Oliver?”  
  
Then his grandfather is down the front steps of the house and down the driveway. He waits for him by the steps going up to the house.  
  
“Hey.” Oliver says casually.  
  
His grandfather grips his coat like maybe he’s afraid he’ll run away and for a second Oliver guesses he’s been found out and that his parents had called ahead.  
  
Once he’s inside and his damp shoes are off his grandfather still has a grip on his coat.  
  
“I’m okay.” Oliver says to reassure him, “I’m-”  
  
He doesn’t know what else to say.  
  
“Does your dad know you’re here?” Bob asks finally letting go.  
  
“No.” Oliver admits, even though he guesses his grandfather already knows the answer.  
  
There’s silence as his grandfather stares at him like he’s trying to force Oliver to keep talking. Instead Oliver just takes off his coat and drops his bags on the floor.  
  
“Your grandma’s going to call him.” Bob tells him, “She’s out shopping.”  
  
Oliver bites his thumbnail. He walks into the house, goes to the kitchen and starts looking for food. He tries hard to ignore the possibility of his grandmother calling his parents and starts eating a cookie.  
  
His grandfather follows him.  
  
“What’s going on?” Bob asks.  
  
Oliver gets that this is where he has to tell the truth if he wants to stay where he is.  
  
“Swim practice?” He tries to joke.  
  
“Oliver.” Bob’s tone is set.  
  
As adult as Oliver had felt in New York with his friends or walking to the train station that morning now he feels like a kid.  
  
“I don’t want to go home.” Oliver admits, “I want to be here.”  
  
Bob stays silent.  
  
“I’m not going home.” Oliver tries again, “I’ll go back to school and stay there if this-”  
  
“Don’t be stupid.” Bob shakes his head; “I’m not sending you to school.”  
  
“Well I’m not going home.” Oliver argues.  
  
Oliver recognizes the look on his grandfather’s face from practice. The same look he’d gotten when he’d challenged his practice sets or tried to cut his warm down short.    
   
“Call your aunt.” Bob says, “Give me time to talk to your grandma.”  
  
*  
  
Twenty minutes later Oliver, his cookies and his backpack are in Hilary’s car.  
  
“Did you eat?” She asks first, “We’ll get you good food.”  
  
Her brow is furrowed and she keeps stealing worried glances his way.  
  
“I’m fine.” He tells her.  
  
“Oliver…” She says his name like a reprimand, like she doesn’t believe him.  
  
He wedges his feet up on the dashboard and messes with the stereo system. He skips songs until he finds one he likes. He thinks that maybe this is what it feels like to have a mom.  
  
“You’re going to have to tell us what’s going on.” Hilary decides, “Or tell me. I can tell Mom and Bob.”  
  
“I don’t want to go home.” Oliver repeats the statement that’s seemingly become a mantra. “that’s it.”  
  
“Why?” Hilary glances away from the road to look at him.  
  
He doesn’t answer.  
  
“Do you get how much this is going to hurt your dad?” She asks. “He’s going to-”  
  
“He hurt me.” Oliver answers finally, less passion in his voice than he wants to use. “So yeah.”  
   
*  
  
Ryan is up when Michael and Talan get home from the pool.  
  
The house is clean and groceries have been delivered. Talan’s car search has been narrowed down to two models.  
  
Michael finds Ryan in the kitchen eating a protein bar.  
  
“You got the cleaners?” Ryan asks, “I woke up and-”  
  
“The house was a fucking disaster.” Michael cuts him off, “There’s no food.”    
  
“I didn’t know you were coming back.” Ryan’s tone is cutting.  
  
“Tal was home.” Michael points out, “You were-”  
  
“You haven’t been-” Ryan accuses.  
  
“It smells way better in here.” Talan’s voice rings out from the hallway, “Nice.”  
  
At the sound of Talan’s voice Ryan holds up both his hands to get Michael to stop talking.  
  
“How was school Baby?” Ryan calls out, “D’you swim?”  
  
“It was good.” Talan starts to lie. “We-”  
  
Before Talan can keep talking or make it into the kitchen Michael grabs Ryan by the arm and drags him across the kitchen and into the backyard.  
  
“I can fucking walk.” Ryan says fighting off Michael, “Without you-”  
  
“He had school?!” Michael accuses.  
  
“Yeah.” Ryan pulls his arm away, “He just said it was good.”  
  
Michael fumes. He paces the grass trying to not yell or hit. He tries to think of Talan inside. Guesses Talan will call Oliver if he hears them fight.  
  
“I got home this morning.” He manages to choke out, “You were passed out. Tal was playing video games. He didn’t go to school. I took him swimming and to look at cars. I fixed your fucking mess.”  
  
Ryan is quiet.  
  
“D’you know how much booze I found?”  
  
It’s getting harder for Michael to talk. As furious as he is he’s also hurt. As much as he wants to confront Ryan and kick him out he’s also worried. As much as he wishes he didn’t love Ryan anymore he does. As much as he wishes to blame Ryan for everything, he still feels guilty. Had he been home, had he called more, had he not found excuse after excuse to stay away maybe it wouldn’t be like this.  
  
He thinks of the two wine glasses in New York and of the dozens of unanswered lawyer emails. He thinks back to when he was twenty and only saw Ryan a handful of times a year and the Christmas when Ryan had shown up lost in Baltimore.  
  
He thinks of Ryan’s dad and of Ryan’s dad’s drinking problem. Of the DUI after London. Of all the times he’d been with Ryan and Ryan had had to settle family problems on the phone.  
  
“You need help.” Michael offers, “This can’t-”  
  
“I’m fine.” Ryan argues back, “I’m-”  
  
“Nah.” It’s Michael’s turn to hold his hand up to get Ryan to stop talking, “You were too drunk to bring our kid to school.”  
  
“You don’t-”  
  
“I called Oliver a liar.” Michael yells now, “I believed you an not him.”  
  
And now he doesn’t talk to me, is what Michael doesn’t add.  
  
“Ols ain’t here.” Ryan states, “You ain’t here. You ain’t been here since- You didn’t call. Tal misses you. He had to go through all his rehab and learn to walk and you fucking bailed on him. You bailed on me.”  
  
"Have you looked at the medical bills Ry? Like when they come in do you even-" Michael defends himself, “Someone has to be-”  
  
“Nah.” Ryan laughs, “Don’t make fucking excuses. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be here with me or with Tal. You didn’t wanna be here without Ols. You stuck around for Ols and he left and so did you.”  
  
Michael doesn’t answer.  
  
“You’re here ‘cause Ols’ home tomorrow.” Ryan echoes Talan’s words from earlier “Don’t pretend it’s for us.”  
  
*  
  
Ryan leaves Michael in the backyard. He stops himself from slamming the sliding kitchen door.  
  
He wants to leave.  
  
“Everything okay?” Talan asks, “You’re kinda frozen.”  
  
“Yeah.” Ryan forces himself to smile and walks over to the table where Talan is sitting looking at brochures, “What you got?”  
  
“A car.” Talan holds up one brochure, “And a truck.”  
  
“You wanted a truck.” Ryan sits down next to him, “Get the truck.”  
  
From where they’re sitting Ryan can hear Michael talk on the phone. Talan had probably heard them fight.  
  
“Baby-” He starts and doesn’t know what he should apologize for first.  
  
“It’s a really nice car.” Talan points to the Audi brochure, “Like better than Ols.”  
  
“Didn’t know you were competing.”  
  
“Always.” Talan says.  
  
“Get what you want Baby.”  
  
“I want a beach party.” Talan requests and he’s not looking at the car brochures anymore, “With my friends and everyone and Ols. I want an Oreo cake and tacos.”  
  
“We’ll make it happen.” Ryan forces himself to sound cheerful, “We got you.”  
  
Talan looks at him and it’s clear he doesn’t believe him. It hurts and Ryan can’t bring himself to look at Talan.  
  
“We ain’t gonna fight.” He promises, “Ols is-”  
  
“Oliver knows.” Talan says pointedly, “Like y’all can pretend so he keeps coming home but he-”  
  
Talan is interrupted by the sliding glass door slamming open. Michael walks into the kitchen and out towards his office without looking at either of them. Seconds later they hear his office door slam shut.  
  
Talan gathers his papers and his phone into one messy pile.  
  
“I’m going to Brady’s.” He says, “I think I’m gonna sleep over. I’m bringing Hoops”  
  
“Stay home Baby.” Ryan tries to convince him, “We can figure out your-”  
  
“No.” Talan answers fast, “They’re picking me up like now.”  
  
Ryan isn’t dumb. He realizes that his family knows how things are going; that his marriage is failing and he’s struggling to keep things at home together. He knows that Devon has probably guessed about the drinking but he guesses that Devon hasn’t told anyone. If his sisters or mom knew they would have taken Talan away.  
  
“I just said I wanted to talk ‘bout cars.” Talan is quiet, “That Dad was home and-”  
  
“You don’t gotta lie.” Ryan can’t look up, he stares at his knees, “Dude-”  
  
“It’s- It’s okay.” Talan says but he doesn’t sound convinced, “I gotta go though.”  
  
Ryan follows Talan to the door. He hugs him goodbye and waves at Devon who’s driving. Mostly to show that he’s not passed out somewhere, that he’s got this.  
  
“Call if you wanna get picked up.” Ryan yells out after them, “Love you.”  
  
 Once the car is gone Ryan shuts the door. He takes a long look at the basket of keys in the entryway and thinks of grabbing his and leaving. Of going to join Talan at Devon’s or faking a business trip like Michael’s been doing for the past two months.  
  
Instead he forces himself to stay in the house, away from the booze in the garage and into the living room. There he orders an Oreo ice cream cake for Wednesday and starts calling restaurants to find someone to cater on such short notice.  
  
There’s a liquor bottle behind the lamp. With Michael locked in his study and Talan not home his resolve to stay sober lessens.    
  
He takes a drink.  
  
*  
  
Michael’s office is still a mess.  
  
Even though Talan no longer sleeps downstairs, the hospital bed they’d rented is still crammed in the corner where his desk usually stands. The boxes and the paperwork have been shoved against a wall almost to the ceiling. There’s a stack of mail on the floor by the door, it’s the first thing Michael reaches for.  
  
His desk chair is buried under a mountain of spare blankets and pillows so Michael sits cross-legged on the floor and starts sorting through mail.  
Once the large pile is down to four smaller more manageable ones he starts opening.  
  
He can’t concentrate. He thinks about his fight with Ryan and Ryan’s accusations. He thinks that both Talan and Ryan are right, that for the most part he’d come home because Oliver was too.  
  
Michael doesn’t allow himself to think that maybe Oliver is hoping he isn’t home for Thanksgiving. That Oliver is only coming home for Talan and Ryan.  
  
The smallest pile is made up of his credit card statements, something he rarely looks at. He picks the envelope at the bottom of the pile, checks the date and rips it open.  
  
August.  
  
The amount is staggering. It includes most of the cost of bringing Talan home from Costa Rica and all the hotel rooms and cars they’d rented over the course of their time in Miami.  
  
Michael scans the bill line by line, not finding anything interesting or out of the ordinary until he reaches several lines with BAR TAB - BILTMORE HOTEL.  The charges are from one night and Michael knows they aren’t his.  
  
He counts back days from their arrival in Miami and realizes that after he’d forced Ryan to leave the hospital Ryan had gone to the hotel to get drunk. That they hadn’t been able to reach him while Talan was in critical condition because he was passed out.  
  
They’d been watching Talan die and Ryan had been getting drunk at the hotel bar.  
  
He crumples the bill and throws it against the wall. He grabs his phone from his pocket and sends an email about rehab programs to his manager. He sends another email about custody to his lawyers.  
  
He tries calling Oliver again. 

  
**Tuesday, November 22nd**  
  
Oliver’s flight is scheduled to land at 2 and Michael is at the airport at 1:30.  
  
Oliver always texts or calls him before flights but today has just brought more radio silence. Michael is sure Oliver doesn’t want to see him but he can’t let things keep going the way they’re going. He needs his kid to forgive him. He needs Oliver to listen to him.  
  
He knows it’s selfish.  
  
He waits by the domestic arrival gate until Oliver’s flight lands. He gets up and goes to stand close to the doors waiting to see his kid.  
  
Oliver is in first class and should be one of the first people out. Michael remembers booking him a seat close to the front.  
  
Oliver doesn’t come and by the time the luggage carousel has stopped and emptied his luggage isn’t on it either.  
  
Michael double checks the itinerary he’d already triple checked to make sure he has the right flight and the right airport.  
  
As much as he wants to panic and think up of worst-case scenarios he can guess the truth. Oliver has chosen not to come home.  
  
“Sir.” An representative for the airport walks up to him, “Are you looking for missing luggage?”  
  
“Um no.” Michael waves her off, “My kid.”  
  
“Is your child missing?” The woman asks, slight panic in her voice.  
  
“He was supposed to be on this flight.” Michael babbles, “And he isn’t-”  
  
He walks away from her before she can ask any other questions. He leaves the airport and walks back to his car. He sits in it dazed for a few minutes.  
  
He doesn’t try to call Oliver. He knows his kid won’t answer and that his voicemail will be full.  
  
He checks the credit card statements on his phone but there are no charges for new tickets. He calls their place in New York and just hears his own voice asking to leave a message or to try another phone number.  
  
He drives to go pick up Talan from school on autopilot. Preoccupied with Oliver and the emails from divorce lawyers. He runs a red light and speeds. Cars honk at him angrily and he flips them off.  
  
Talan is waiting for him outside. He hurries to the car when Michael pulls up. His face falls when he realizes Oliver isn’t in the car.  
  
“D’you drop him off?” Talan shoves his backpack into the backseat.  
  
“No.” Michael answers honestly, not knowing if he should lie, “He wasn’t on the plane.”  
  
“Figures.” Talan grumbles. “Dick.”  
  
Michael doesn’t start driving and he doesn’t reprimand Talan for his language.  
  
“You know where he is.” He says, “Oliver told you.”  
  
“I look like I know shit?” Talan counters looking annoyed.  
  
“Talan.” Michael tries not to sound annoyed or desperate.  
  
“I dunno.” Talan shrugs, “He didn’t call me.”  
  
Talan fidgets. He plays with the air vents and taps his foot against the hard plastic of the door. He licks his already chapped lips and averts Michael’s eyes. From the side, with his hair still short and all his freckles he looks like Ryan in Athens.  
  
“Please.” Michael tries gently, “I just have to know where he is.”  
  
“I wanted him here for my birthday.” Talan breathes out, “I dunno.”  
  
It’s all the information Talan volunteers.  
  
“Baby.” Michael puts a hand on Talan’s shoulder and squeezes, “He’s gonna come home.”  
  
“Nah.” Talan brushes off the reassurance, “He ain’t.”  
   
Michael can’t bring himself to drive. Going home without Oliver is impossible to think of. Going back home to Ryan is discouraging. He wants to leave too.  
  
Talan squirms out of the grip Michael has on his shoulder and moves as close to the door as he can.  
  
“I ain’t swimming.” Talan’s jaw is set. “I wanna go to Brady’s.”  
  
Michael closes his eyes and counts down from ten. The last thing he wants to deal with right now is Talan being difficult. He wants to get to the pool to call around and find his kid. He wants to answer the emails from his lawyers. He wants to talk to Devon about Ryan. He wants to leave Florida. He doesn’t want to fight with Talan.  
  
“It’s your physio. It’s not a choice.” Michael answers, “We’re going to the pool.”  
  
“What? You gonna push me in?” Talan challenges, “I gotta cane, people are gonna judge you.”  
  
“Talan.” Michael warns.  
  
“I ain’t swimming.” Talan repeats, “You push me in I ain’t gonna try and I don’t float so I’m just gonna sink-”  
  
“Stop.” Michael is firm, “We’re going to the pool”  
  
“We’re going to Brady’s.” Talan corrects. “Because you ain’t gonna push me in.”  
  
“Fine.” Michael cedes. He doesn’t want to force Talan to go to the pool. He doesn’t want to deal with the fight, “We’re going home.”  
  
“No.” Talan refuses, “Brady’s or Grandma’s or Aunt Kristin.”  
  
“Talan. We’re going home.” Michael says, and he wishes Talan wasn’t as stubborn as Ryan had been at eighteen. “That’s final.”  
  
“So what?” Talan asks, “So I can listen to you guys fight? So you can pack ‘cause Oliver didn’t show up.”  
  
“Talan.” Michael raises his voice. “Stop.”  
  
“Talan stop.” Talan mimics.  
  
Michael breathes. He starts to drive.  
  
It’s a silent drive home. Once they’re parked in the driveway, Talan doesn’t move to get out of the car.  
  
“We’re home.” Michael says, undoing his seat belt and opening the driver side door.  
  
Talan’s seat belt is still done up and he’s still looking out the window.  
   
“I told you I ain’t going home.” Talan slinks lower in his seat.  
  
As much as Michael wants to blame the stubbornness on Ryan he knows that it’s partly him too. That if this wasn’t so tragic and desperate it would be a parenting moment that would make his mom laugh. That he was finally getting what he had given her.  
  
“Talan get out of the car.” Michael asks, “Come on.”  
  
“No.” Talan answers.  
  
Michael takes another breath, looks at his kid and gets back into the car. He closes the door and turns the car back on. The air conditioning starts blasting again. He tries not to think of all the mornings he’d sat in Talan’s seat with Bob sitting in the driver’s seat.  
  
“Look-” Michael starts.  
  
“Are you gonna help Dad?” Talan whispers.  
  
Michael isn’t sure he hears. He’s afraid to talk and infuriate Talan back into silence.  
  
“Dad needs help.” Talan says a little louder.  
  
“Baby.”  
  
It’s not a useful or comforting thing to say. It’s not enough but it’s all Michael can bring himself to say.  
  
“Are you gonna help him?” Talan repeats and this time his voice is loud and he looks right at Michael.  
  
Michael falters. He doesn’t know what to say but more importantly he doesn’t want to care. He wishes again that Talan wasn’t so much like Ryan. That Talan cared a little less.  
  
“I dunno who to ask for help.” Talan admits, “Dad trusts me and-”  
  
Talan looks stressed. He looks at Michael expectantly waiting for an answer.  
  
“Talan.”  
  
“Stop saying my name.” Talan snaps. “Tell me what you’re gonna do.”  
  
“We’re going to leave Dad for a bit.” Michael answers honestly thinking again of all the emails he still needs to answer, all the phone calls he still has to make, “You and me are-”  
  
“I ain’t leaving Florida.” Talan interrupts,  “No way I go to New York.”  
  
“Talan.” Michael tries to keep his voice gentle, “This isn’t good for you it’s-”  
  
“You ain’t gonna make me leave.” Talan challenges, “I ain’t going to-”  
  
“Did Dad tell you to say this shit?” Michael snaps exasperated, “You happy with how things are here? You want to keep staying alone with your Dad?”  
  
The passenger side of the car is stone silent and Michael knows he’s messed up.  
  
“Talan.” He starts his apology, “I-”  
  
“Fuck you.” Talan snaps back, “I hate you.”  
  
*  
  
2pm comes and goes.  
  
Oliver doesn’t eat the lunch his aunt makes. He sits on the bed of her guest room and stares at his phone.  
  
No one calls him.  
  
It’s 2:30 by the time he gives up his vigil.  He puts his phone in his back pocket and grabs a long forgotten swim bag from beside the door.  
  
He’s agreed to go to the pool to try and convince everyone that he really is okay. That running away to Baltimore was a rationally thought out decision and not some kind of melt down.  
  
Despite the occasional side-glances from people in his classes and girls following him around he’d settled into comfortable anonymity at Harvard. Most people pretended they didn’t know who he was, let him introduce himself and talk about where he was from. It was nice.  
  
In Baltimore, especially at Meadowbrooks, he’s instantly recognizable.  
  
He signs a poster of his own face at the front entrance and poses for pictures with people who definitely aren’t there to swim.  
  
“How people knew you were coming…” Bob shakes his head and pushes Oliver forward, “This doesn’t happen everyday.”  
  
“People haven’t been waiting for me to show up?” Oliver jokes, turning back to wave at the small crowd, “My fan club?”  
  
“You think you’re smart now.” Bob shakes his head, “Wait until you’re in there.”  
  
The humidity and the smell of chlorine hits him as soon as they walk through the door. It’s familiar but not comforting. The smell makes Oliver nervous.  
  
“You got a lock in there?” Bob asks, pointing to his swim bag.  
  
“Maybe?” Oliver has no idea, he doesn’t even know if there’s a swimsuit in his bag.  
  
“Your locker’s probably free.” Bob says, “Meet you out there. Don’t mess around.”  
  
He walks towards his office and Oliver rolls his eyes.  
  
His locker belonged to his dad. When Oliver had inherited it, there had still been old tattered newspaper articles stuck to it and old laminated time sheets tapes to the inside of the door.  
  
Oliver doesn’t want to see them today.  
  
All the things in his swim bags are from before the Olympic trials. He has nothing with a team USA sign on it, nothing with Olympic rings. He picks a suit that isn’t from Meadowbrooks or the Speed Club.  
  
He stretches away from his grandfather’s office and gets halfway through his warm-up before he gives up and sits down.  
  
He doesn’t want to swim.  
  
There’s a baby aquatics class close to where he is and he watches parents carefully dip babies in and out of the water. Listens to the wails of protest and sympathizes.  
  
“Want to go join?” Bob offers, “Or you want to swim.”  
  
“Swim.” Oliver lies. “Let’s go.”  
  
Apart from the baby aquatics class, the rest of the pool is empty. Oliver wonders if his grandfather had closed the pool for him. He chooses the middle lane and stands before his block.  
  
“Are you doing sets or are you just swimming?” Bob asks.  
  
“Whatever you want.” Oliver shrugs. “What do I do?”  
  
It’s easier to let someone else decide.  
  
“Senior team did that yesterday.” Bob points to the old rolling white board. “Easy for you but it’s a start.”  
  
The sets on the board are more than Oliver’s swam since Rotterdam.  
  
“Ok.” Oliver agrees uncertain.  
  
He doesn't get in the water right away. Instead he plays with the strap of his goggles and runs a finger down the back of his swim cap. He feels his hands get clammy and he takes a step away from the edge of the pool.  
  
“You look like you’re going to puke.” Bob says and his hand wraps around Oliver’s arm.  
  
“Yeah. No.” Oliver puts his goggles over his eyes, “I’m good.”  
  
“Oliver.” Bob’s grip is tighter on his arm, “Let’s go sit.”  
  
“I’m fine.” Oliver protests because his plan to look like he has it together is quickly falling apart.  
  
“I don’t want to have to pull the lifeguard watching the babies to come watch you.” Bob answers, still not letting go of his arm, “Come on.”  
  
Oliver suddenly understands this has been an elaborate game of chicken and that he’s just lost. He lets Bob pull him off the block, takes his goggles off and follows his grandfather to his office.  
  
His grandfather has always had the same office. It’s small and filled with framed pictures and medals. Oliver thinks that maybe this is where his medals belong.  
  
“Sit.” Bob lets go of his arm and points to the couch, “Talk.”  
  
“I came to swim so I didn’t have to talk.” Oliver argues. “I don’t want to talk.”  
  
“You don’t want to swim.” Bob argues, “Talk.”  
  
There’s a sweatshirt on the arm of the couch. Oliver doesn’t know who it belongs to but he puts it on anyways. The sleeves are two inches too short for his arms.  
  
“It doesn’t fit.” He says and maybe he’s talking about the sweater and maybe he’s talking about swimming.  
  
“You didn’t go home.” Bob ignores him, “Why?”    
  
The drawstring of the hoodie is unraveling. He focuses on pulling at the loose strings.  
  
“I need something to tell your grandmother.” Bob continues, “If your dad calls she’s going to-”  
  
“Dad drinks.” Oliver starts talking without looking up from the drawstring, “And Dad never goes home anymore. They’re going to split up.”  
  
He waits for his grandfather to jump in, to brush off his comment or to tell him to be serious but it doesn’t come.  
  
“Dad’s cheating. I saw him.” It hurts to talk but Oliver keeps going, “They fight all the time. I don’t want to go back.”  
  
“Oliver.” Bob says, like he’s heard enough.  
  
“It’s hard to be at school and know Talan’s home and it’s all going on. I don’t know what to do.” Oliver shrugs, “Dad’s out there making all these speeches about me and he’s mad I’m not swimming.”  
  
Talking about it feels good. He breathes and looks up. He tries not to focus on all the pictures of his dad looking down at him from the wall.  
  
“I know Dad’s like…” Oliver starts motioning towards the wall in front of him which is covered with Michael’s face and some of Michael’s medals.  
  
“No.” Bob interrupts him, “This is you.”  
  
“I don’t want to go home.” Oliver reaffirms.  
  
“You’re not going back.” Bob reassures, “Go get dressed.”  
  
*  
  
It takes awhile for the sting of Talan’s words to go away.  
  
Talan storms into the house and Michael stays in the car. Finally when he can’t bring himself to go into the house without Oliver, Michael drives away.  
  
He spends the next few hours driving around a city he’d never wanted to live in yet somehow managed to spend half his life calling home.  
  
He calls his mom in Baltimore and she hasn’t seen Oliver. Neither of his sisters answer their phone and Bob’s phone is turned off.  
  
He drives to the car dealership and buys Talan the pick up truck.  
  
He drives back to their house and runs out of ideas. He doesn’t know if he should buy plane tickets or call a rehab. He doesn’t know how to get someone into rehab or how he’s going to force Ryan to go.  
  
He starts to understand why Oliver had refused to come home.  
  
Talan’s shoes, his backpack, his cane and his dog are still in the house so Michael figures that Talan is too. He thinks of going to see him but decides to face Ryan instead.  
   
Ryan is in the kitchen. Sitting on the counter top like he did when he lived in Gainesville and didn’t own kitchen bar stools or chairs for his kitchen table.  
  
“Where’s Oliver?” Ryan asks, not tip-toeing around the issue.  
  
“He didn’t come home.” Michael admits.  
  
He drags one of their kitchen chairs and sits a few feet away from Ryan. Once upon a time this would have been a problem they’d solved together. Now he knows it’s something they’ll fight about.  
  
“It ain’t about me.” Ryan challenges, “He calls me.”  
  
“He calls you?” Michael says and it’s like the air has been sucked out of him.  
  
“He ain’t mad at me.” Ryan settles.  
  
“When’s the last time you talked to him?” Michael sounds desperate despite himself.  
  
“Last week.” Ryan says, “He couldn’t sleep.”  
  
“I don’t even know where he is.” Michael says and his voice breaks. “If you know, I gotta-“  
  
Oliver is Michael’s person. His baby and he doesn’t even know where he is. Michael hates losing and he hates failing. Failing as a parent though is worse. He can’t stand it.  
  
Ryan shakes his head. Michael believes him.  
  
Ryan reaches behind him, grabs a beer bottle and takes a long drink. His heels kick against the cabinet. Michael wants to push him off.  
  
“You gotta stop drinking.” Michael stops pretending everything is okay, “You have to go to rehab. I’m going to take the…”  
  
“The kids don’t even wanna be here.” Ryan laughs, “You don’t wanna be here.”  
  
“I’m going to take Talan to…”  
  
“Talan won’t go.” Ryan keeps drinking, “Good luck.”  
  
“You don’t even fucking care.” Michael gets up from his chair with the intention of walking over and grabbing the beer out of Ryan’s hand. He realizes though that the bottle is already empty.  
  
 “Whole time we been together you’ve said you’d take ‘em away.” Ryan says, “For fucking seventeen years every time we fight you use ‘em like they’re weapons. I ain’t been allowed to fuck up or be mad or say shit since Gator’s been born without you saying you’d take ‘em away-”  
  
“You got a drinking problem.” Michael motions around the now clean kitchen like maybe all the bottles from the day before might manifest themselves again. “Talan can’t be here.”  
  
“HE’S MINE.” Ryan roars and everything in his voice sounds broken.  
  
“He’s mine too.” Michael argues back, “They’re both ours.”  
  
“They’d choose me.” Ryan spits out.  
  
He jumps off the counter and gets another beer from the fridge before Michael can stop him.  
  
“You’re a good dad.” Michael struggles to get the words out, “They’d probably both choose you over me but like this is the only time is eighteen years that you’re fucking up about them.”  
  
“You ain’t taking them away.” Ryan repeats, “I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
“You have a drinking problem.” Michael wishes he had the hotel bill but realizes it doesn’t matter, “I believed you instead of Oliver. Talan was dying and you were at the hotel getting drunk. You think I wouldn’t know? You think Devon lying for you was gonna work?”  
  
“You..” Ryan tries to cut in.  
  
“When else you been drunk?” Michael keeps going because now he can’t stop, “You drive Tal to school drunk? Were you drinking on the beach? That why Oliver had to swim out for him?”  
  
“I DON’T TRUST YOU WITH HIM.” Ryan yells, fighting back. “YOU WANTED TO TELL ‘EM TO LET HIM DIE.”  
  
“I WAS THERE ALONE. BECAUSE YOU WERE DRUNK. TAL WAS DYING. HE WANTED YOU AND YOU WERE DRUNK.” Michael yells back, forcing himself not to walk closer to Ryan.  
  
“DIVORCE ME.” Ryan screams, brandishing his beer, “LEAVE. WE DON’T NEED YOU. WE DON’T WANT YOU. YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW WHO YOU’RE FUCKING IN NEW YORK?”  
  
“YOU.” Michael takes a step forward, “YOU WANT TO TALK ABOUT CHEATING?”  
  
“Jee-sus.” Ryan rolls his eyes, “Get the fuck out.”  
  
Ryan walks out of the kitchen and into the hallway and comes back with the bowl where they keep their keys. He throws the contents of the bowl at Michael.  
  
“Get the fuck out.” He yells again as four sets of keys hit Michael in the chest. “We don’t need you.”  
  
“I’m not leaving.” Michael states. “You’re…”  
  
“STOP!”  
  
Talan is standing by the kitchen door. Michael has no idea how long he’s been there.  
  
“Stop.” He says quieter now that he has their attention.  
  
“Talan. Leave.” Ryan says shortly, “Go to your room.”  
  
“No.” Talan refuses.  
  
“Talan.” Ryan repeats, walking over to him.  
  
“Stop fucking drinking” Talan implores and his voice sounds choked. “Dad’s gonna…”  
  
“Ry. Don’t-“ Michael tries to get to Ryan before Ryan gets to Talan.  
  
“Don’t talk to him.” Ryan snaps back, “You left.”  
  
“You’re too drunk to take care of him.” Michael argues without thinking of Talan. “You don’t give a shit.”  
  
“He’ll pick me.” Ryan argues, reaching for Talan’s sleeve and hanging on, “He’ll pick-“  
  
“He’s not gonna get a fucking choice. No judge gives custody to a drunk.”  
  
“Are we having Thanksgiving?” Talan says, trying to be heard over their fighting. “Are we having my birthday.”  
  
Ryan’s grip on Talan’s arm gets tighter. Michael can see the fabric of his t-shirt stretch tight.  
  
“You can’t listen to him.” Ryan implores, “He’s gonna take you. I won’t see you.”  
  
“I just want to know.” Talan’s voice is quiet and his hands are shaking, “If we’re having Thanksgiving.”  
  
“Talan.” Michael tries to stay calm, “Just go to your room.”  
  
“ARE WE HAVING THANKSGIVING?” Talan yells, “IS OLIVER COMING?”  
  
“TALAN.” Ryan yells, “IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU. SHUT UP.”  
  
“YOU SHUT UP.” Talan yells back, “I HATE YOU.”  
  
Ryan’s hands are on Talan before Michael can get between them. A second later Talan is on the floor.  
  
“Jesus Fuck Ryan.” Michael pushes him against the wall.  
  
“No Dad I fell.” Talan says, “I fell.” He repeats.  
  
“Talan-”  
  
“I fell.”  
  
“I’m sorry-” Ryan says reaching beyond Michael for Talan.  
  
“DO NOT.” Michael presses Ryan harder, feels his husband’s head smack against the wall. “TOUCH HIM.”  
  
“I fell.” Talan repeats, “Dad I fell.”  
  
“Talan.” Michael tries to keep his voice calm, “Go to your room. Pack your stuff.”  
  
“Dad-“ Talan implores and it’s not clear which one of them he’s talking too.  
  
“Go.” Michael says shortly.  
  
*  
  
It hurts to move fast.  
  
Talan gets up the stairs on his own and to his bedroom. Hoops follows him.  
      
Talan isn’t looking for his backpack or his carry on or his passport. He tears his room apart looking for Hoops’ carrier. He dials for Oliver.  
  
“I had it.” He tells the dog, trying to ignore the yelling downstairs. “Like I know where it is.”  
  
Hoops turns to look at the bedroom door and whines.  
  
“It’s okay.” Talan says, wiping tears off his face, “We’re gonna get out.”  
  
Someone’s been through his room. His organized chaos is cleaner and nothing is where it should be. He finds Hoops carrier at the back of his closet and holds it out for his dog to consider.    
  
“You didn’t get too fat for this right?” He asks him.  
  
“Hey.” Oliver answers like everything is fine. Like his world is still okay.  
  
“YOU’RE GOING TO REHAB. You’re leaving. If you want to… YOU HIT HIM.”  
  
“Shit.” Oliver swears before Talan can say anything, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Where are you?” Talan asks.  
  
Talan throws a bunch of his own clothes into a backpack and shoves it through his window onto the roof.  He considers Hoops and the carrier for a few seconds.  
  
“We’re leaving here.” Talan decides angry at Oliver’s silence “So tell me.”  
  
“Baltimore.” Oliver answers guiltily. “With grandma.”  
  
“YOU WERE DRUNK THE WHOLE TIME.” Michael’s voice is just as loud. “YOU’RE DRUNK RIGHT NOW.”  
  
“Fuck you.” Talan says angry. “It’s-”  
  
“Take Dad’s credit card.” Oliver speaks fast and quiet, “Call Evan. Get him to drive you to the airport. I’ll pick you up.”  
  
“You call Evan.” Talan conditions. Unzipping the carrier door and dusting out the inside.  
  
“I can’t.” Oliver refuses. “Go to Dad’s room, take the black card from his wallet and-”  
  
“Call Evan whatever.” Talan picks up Hoops and tries to wrestle him into the carrier. “I should just call Brady.”  
  
“No.” Oliver objects, “He’s the first ones dads are gonna talk to. Ev will do it.”  
  
With Oliver still on the line, Talan walks to the master bedroom and finds Michael’s wallet in a wooden tray on the dresser. He takes out the first credit card he sees.  
  
“I got the card.” Talan tells him, “I’m gonna climb down and call Evan.”  
  
“Don’t.” Oliver groans, “Just use the stairs.”  
  
“They’re right in the kitchen.” Talan says, “They’ll see me.”  
  
“Where they think you are?”  
  
“My room. Dad told me to leave.”  
  
“Dude don’t climb.”  
  
 When he first came home from the hospital. Talan felt like he was eighty, now on good days he almost feels normal. Still, climbing down from the roof seems daunting. Even if Brady and him have done it hundreds of time Talan knows it’s something he probably shouldn’t attempt.  
  
“Call Evan.” Oliver repeats, “Then call me back.”  
  
“Whatever.” Talan answers. “Your plan sucks.”  
  
He hangs up anyways and dials for Evan.  
  
“I need a ride to the airport.” Talan speaks before Evan can say hello.  
  
“Tal?” Evan sounds confused  
  
The fight downstairs has gone quiet and Talan knows he’s running out of time before Michael comes to get him. He ushers Hoops into the carrier and zips him up inside.  
  
“Can you do it? I gotta leave like right now.”  
  
“It’s-“  
  
“Oliver said you’d do it.” Talan insists, “He said to call.”  
  
“Yeah.” Evan doesn’t sound any less confused, “I guess.”  
  
“I’ll walk down the street.” Talan finalizes his entirely one sided plan, “Just don’t come here.”  
  
He hangs up without waiting for Evan to confirm, puts his phone in his back pocket and finishes packing up his bag. He knows it’ll be cold in Baltimore but he has no idea where his real non Florida winter clothes are. He finds a hoodie and his gym sneakers and decides they’ll work just fine.  
  
He considers his window again.  
  
“I will not drop you.” Talan promises Hoops holding the pet carrier up to eye level. “I think.”  
  
Talan throws his backpack off the roof first. He tries to think of the best way to climb down but quickly realizes he probably won’t be able to do it.  
  
“Whatever.” He says to Hoops, “We can’t like not go.”  
  
He puts the strap of Hoops’ carrier over his head and across his body. He reaches for the closest tree branch and swings his feet off the roof.  
  
It goes better than expected.  
  
Instead of jumping down from the tree like he usually does he takes the time to climb down. He finds his backpack and speed walks out of the backyard.  
  
Evan is waiting for him a few houses down.  
  
“What the fuck’s going on?” He says as soon as Talan sits in his car.  
  
“I gotta go to the airport.” Talan reaches behind them to put Hoops’ carrier on the backseat. “I can’t drive.”  
  
Evan drums his fingers on his steering wheel.  
  
“Where’s Oliver?” He demands.  
  
“He didn’t come home. He’s in Baltimore.”  
  
“Oh.” Evan says.  
  
“It ain’t about you.” Talan reassures.  
  
“He’s with his rich kid friends.” Evan says bitterly.  
  
“You’re his rich kid friend.” Talan points out the obvious, “This is a BMW.”  
   
“He’s always with Phillip.” Evan ignores Talan’s correction, “I know.”  
  
“No dude.” Talan says exasperated he has to fix Oliver’s love life problems while he’s trying to run away, “Phillip’s a chick. Her dad’s a fucking like… Criminal he spills oil in oceans.”  
  
“Like with cans?”  
  
“No by drilling.” Talan tries to explain. “Spills. Big ones and then the turtles can’t-”  
  
“You’re asking me to drive you to the airport before Thanksgiving and you want to talk about turtles?”  
  
“You started talking ‘bout Ols.” Talan points out, “I just wanna go.”  
  
“Go where?”  
  
“Baltimore.” Talan answer, “Ols needs me.”  
  
He gets to the airport without a plan.  
  
“Which airline are you flying with?” Evan asks, “I’ll drop you off with-”  
  
“I dunno.” Talan admits, “I don’t have a ticket yet.”  
  
Evan looks at him and sighs, like this is too much responsibility. Like he can already tell this is a Bad Idea.  
  
“I just asked you to drive me.” Talan reminds him, “I can figure out the rest.”  
  
“No.” Evan pulls over and puts his four ways on.  
  
“Don’t bring me home.” Talan cries out, “I gotta go to Baltimore.”  
  
“Yeah dumbass.” Evan pulls out his phone, “You need a ticket.”  
  
“I have a credit card.” Talan pulls out the card he’d taken from Michael’s wallet, “I look like Michael Phelps?”  
  
“Not the fuck at all man.” Evan shrugs, “Jesus.”  
  
*      
  
Instead of punching Ryan, Michael punches the wall next to his head.  
  
Ryan, he quickly realizes, is black out drunk.  
  
Talan, he also realizes, can hear their fight.  
  
Ryan hits back hard and Michael just manages to grab his arm to stop him. Ryan loses his balance and falls forward.    
  
“You’re fucked.” Michael points out. “You hit our fucking kid.”  
  
He thinks of Talan alone upstairs and of Ryan currently on the kitchen floor and the decision is easy to make. He walks away.  
  
“Ain’t no way he’s still upstairs.” Ryan slurs out, “He don’t wanna go with you.”  
  
On his way upstairs Michael calls Devon because it’s what he’s always done when faced with a Ryan problem he can’t deal with on his own.  
  
“Dude.” Devon doesn’t sound happy to hear from him, “It’s been fucking months. We’ve all…”  
  
“He needs help.” Micheal gets to the top of the stairs “I have to get Tal out. I ain’t staying here to make sure he’s…”  
  
“You’re both fucking dumb.” Devon groans, “I can’t believe I’m still in the middle of this shit.”  
  
“He hit Tal.” Michael reveals, “We were fighting and he hit Tal.”  
  
“Shit.”  
  
“You comin’ over?” Michael asks, “Or do I call the cops?”  
  
“I’m comin’ over.” Devon says. “But not for you.”  
  
The door to Talan’s room is closed and Michael doesn’t bother knocking. He opens it, checks the bathroom and knows Ryan is right. Talan isn’t home.  
  
*  
  
Evan stays with him until he’s checked in for his flight and in some ways it’s like having Oliver there.  
  
“You need a wheelchair or something?” Evan asks as they walk towards security.  
  
The next flight to Baltimore is at nine. It’s two hours away and it feels like two hours too long. Two hours for everyone to realize where he is and for everyone to come get him.  
  
“Look once you go past security they can’t get to you without a ticket.” Evan offers, “My parents don’t know I left. I won’t say nothing.”  
  
“Thanks.” Talan says.  
  
“Text Ols your flight number.” Evan keeps talking, “So he knows when to pick you up.”  
  
“Yeah I know.”  
  
“D’you have money for food?” Evan asks.  
  
Talan nods.  
  
They get to the start of the security line and Talan pulls out his phone with his boarding pass.  
  
“Dude look.” Evan says, “Whatever’s going on. It’s gonna work out.”  
  
It takes a second too long for it not to be awkward but Evan reaches over and hugs him.  
  
“Just fucking call Oliver.” Talan says as he pulls away, “Like you’re both waiting for each other it’s dumb.”  
  
Talan doesn’t wait for another hug or to hear Evan refuse his advice. He walks into the security line and doesn’t look back.  
  
He has ten minutes of freedom before his phone rings and his dad’s number pops up on caller ID. Talan is hungry and sad and tired and his body hurts from missing two days of physio and climbing down the roof.  
  
Talan answers his phone because he doesn’t want to ignore it for the next hour.  
  
“Hi.” He says like nothing is wrong.  
  
“Baby where are you?” Michael says and this time he doesn’t sound mad.  
  
“At the airport.” Talan answers.  
  
“What are you doing?” Michael says.  
  
“Waiting for my plane.”  
  
“Where you going?” Michael asks casually like maybe this is a planned vacation. Like maybe Talan had been meaning to get away.  
  
“Away.” Talan answers. “Not here.”  
  
“I’m gonna come get you.” Michael offers, “Just don’t get on a plane.”  
  
“No.” Talan refuses, “I’m gonna go.”  
   
With that, Talan hangs up to find an outdoor area for pets and donuts.  
  
*  
  
It’s Michael’s second trip to the airport.  
  
He buys a ticket to Orlando right after he parks the car. The line for security is long, Michael can’t use his phone while he waits and he just hopes Talan hasn’t already boarded.  
  
Daytona airport only has about ten gates. It takes Michael less than five minutes to find his kid.  
  
Talan is sitting at his gate eating a pumpkin shaped donut. Hoops’ carrier is tucked behind his legs. His backpack is still on his shoulders. Michael knows they’ve failed him. That everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong.  
  
He sits down next to him and Talan doesn’t bother to look up.  
  
“Baby.” He says. “I’m sorry.”  
  
There’s a cup of coffee tucked between Talan’s knees and Talan takes a sip of a it instead of answering.  
  
“I really want to go.” Talan says once he’s swallowed.  
  
Michael hadn’t had time to prepare a speech.  
  
“Dad’s-.”  
  
“No.” Tal closes his eyes and fists up his hands over his ears, “Stop.”  
  
“Come home.” Michael begs, “And we’ll figure it out.”  
  
“Are we having Thanksgiving?” Talan asks again. “I get a birthday party?”  
  
“I don’t know.” Michael admits and his heart breaks, “I’m sorry.”  
  
Talan takes another bite of his donut.  
  
“I’m so sorry Tal.”  
  
“I’m going.” Talan stands firm.  
  
“Where are you going?”  
  
Michael sees Talan hesitate.  
  
“Grandma’s” He says.  
  
Michael considers his options. He can bring Talan back home to a still drunk Ryan, to no turkey, no birthday cake, no Oliver. He can’t bring himself to force him to follow him. He tells himself that Talan will be safe with his family.  
  
“You can go.” He tells Talan.  
  
Talan nods.  
  
“I’ll wait until you’re on the plane.”  
  
Talan nods again. He takes another bite from his donut and wipes his eyes with his sleeve.  
  
While Oliver had come early, Talan had come late.  
  
Oliver had come by surprise; they’d had to wait for Talan.  
  
Talan had made everything okay. Talan had made their family complete.  
  
Talan has just witnessed their family breaking apart.  
  
Talan is wearing a t-shirt and Michael can see Ryan’s handprint bruised on his arm.  
   
“Baby.” Michael says softly, “What happened today has it happened before?”  
  
Talan shakes his head.  
  
“You gotta tell me.” Michael insists.  
  
“You left.” Talan accuses. “No.”  
  
“I want to help Dad.” Michael pleads, “I can’t help if-”  
  
“You don’t wanna help Dad.” Talan corrects.  
  
“Thank you for your patience ladies and gentlemen this will be our pre-boarding call for flight 6342 with service to Baltimore-Washington Airport. All passengers-”  
  
“I gotta go.” Talan says.  
  
“Tal.” Michael implores.  
  
“I got him.” Tal points to Hoops, “And I move slow.”  
  
In the end, all Michael can do is upgrade Talan to first class seat instead of coach. He watches his kid board the plane and realizes too late that he’d forgotten to wish him a happy birthday.  
  
  
*  
  
Michael has lost counts of how often he’s gotten home and not wanted to get out of the car. This time though Devon is out the door and by his car before Michael can turn off the engine.  
  
“Did you find Tal?” Devon asks, “Charlie drilled Brady but he doesn’t know. None of Kristin’s guys left her house. They went out looking but-”  
  
“He went to Baltimore.” Michael fills him in, getting out of the car. “He’s okay.”  
  
Their kitchen is still a disaster. There’s a dent in the wall from Michael’s punch and broken glass from the frames that had fallen. There’s an overturned chair and the counter is littered with what looks like every bottle of alcohol they own.  
  
“Thought I’d get it out.” Devon explains, “The beer fridge is gonna take longer.”  
  
“He’s passed out.” Devon notes, “You guys okay?”  
  
Michael raises an eyebrow.  
  
“Yo like I leave you ain’t gonna fuck each other up?”  
  
Devon still talks like Ryan’s kid brother.  
  
“Both the kids deserve better than this.” Devon says and Michael suspect it won’t be the last time he hears someone tell him this. “Ry deserves better than this.”  
  
“He hit our kid.” Michael defends himself.  
  
“You left the kid.” Devon reproaches, “You left the kid and you left Ry to deal with it.”  
  
Devon’s angry and Michael wonders how much Ryan’s told his family about what’s going on. Knows from experience that Ryan’s family will close in protectively around Ryan and the kids.  
  
“He’s drunk.” Michael points out, “The night Tal almost died? When we couldn’t reach him to get back to the hotel he was drunk. His kid was dying and he was fucking drunk.” The rage is so strong that Michael feels tears and he knows that he can’t promise the fight with Ryan won’t turn to blows.  
  
Devon realizes it too.  
  
“I don’t think you should stay here.” He proposes. “You both need to cool off.”  
  
“He needs to fucking sober up.” Michael is still angry, “He hit our kid Dev. He hit Tal.”  
  
“You can’t stay here.” Devon says.  
  
“It’s my house.”  
  
“It’s Ry’s house too and unless you carry him out I can’t move him. You guys need to like not-”  
  
“He hit our kid.” Michael repeats, “I should have called the cops. I should-“  
  
“Dude.” Devon shakes his head, “He fucked up. He needs help. You ain’t helping.”  
  
“When are you not going to take his side?” Michael yells desperate. “When you going to-“    
  
It’s easy to guess the answer. Michael looks at Devon and at the empty liquor bottles. At the kitchen in the house where Ryan and him had raised their family. Without the kids it feels empty.  
  
“This is fucked.” Michael points out, grabbing his keys off the counter. “Fuck both of you.”  
  
  
*  
  
Talan sees Oliver first.  
  
He hikes his backpack up on his shoulders and walks a little straighter. Pretends he’s not in as much pain as he is. He grips Hoops’ carrier tight and walks faster.    
  
Oliver is just outside the arrival doors sitting in a wheel chair with his hat pulled low over his face. He’s scrolling through his phone. He doesn’t look up until Talan is standing right in front of him.  
  
“You hurt?” Talan asks  
  
“S’for you dumbass.” Oliver explains slowly looking up from his phone. “‘Cause you’re a-”  
  
“I can walk.” Talan points out, “I’m walking.”    
  
“I stole this from like an old couple.” Oliver slips his phone in his pocket, “I’ve been guarding it for an hour.”  
  
“You’re a dick.” Talan answers. “You ain’t been here ten minutes.”  
  
Oliver raises his eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Neither of them says anything else until Oliver stands up.  
  
“You don’t need it?” Oliver asks.  
  
Talan shakes his head.  
  
“I ain’t parked far anyways.” Oliver reaches over and grabs Talan’s bag off his shoulder. “Let’s go.”  
  
They usually have cars waiting for them outside of airports. It feels weird to be walking to the parking lot. For a second Talan feels a little more grown up.  
  
“Did Evan pick you up?” Oliver asks and the question sounds too random to be casual.  
  
“Dude.” Talan answers accusingly.  
  
“Whatever.” Oliver shoots back. “I don’t care.”  
  
While Oliver pays for parking, Talan takes Hoops out of his carrier and walks him along the parking lot. He turns his phone off and pulls the hood of his sweater up.    
  
“Fucking cold.” He mutters to himself, stomping his feet to get warm. “Fuck this.”  
  
Finally being in Baltimore feels odd. Talan hasn’t been here in over a year, hasn’t seen this side of his family in months. Hasn’t seen Oliver since he’d left for Harvard. Getting out of Florida had been his first step and now that he’s out he’s not sure this is where he wants to be.  
  
“Hey.” Oliver walks towards him, “Wanna drive?”  
  
Oliver dangles the keys and Talan know his brother feels bad.  
  
 Oliver is wearing a coat. Oliver has boots.  
  
“Baby.” Oliver says, “Wanna drive?”  
  
“Um no.” Talan answers, not falling for the bribe, “Let’s go though it’s fucking cold.”  
  
“That’s on you. Who doesn’t wear a coat?”  
  
“Yeah like I had time to go dig around the basement.” Talan snaps, “While dads were-“  
  
“While dads were what?” Oliver cuts him off.  
  
Recapping the past two days of his life is the last thing Talan wants to do in an airport parking lot while he feels colder than he’s ever felt before.  
  
Talan doesn’t answer. He tugs on Hoops’ leash until the dog is walking beside him. Talan reaches down to pick him up, unzips his hoodie and tucks the dog against his chest before zipping it back up. He trails behind Oliver on the way to the car.  
  
“We’re here.” Oliver unlocks a white SUV, “It’s grandma’s. We’re staying there.”  
  
Talan opens the passenger door and winces as he steps up.  
  
“Shit, here.” Oliver jogs from the trunk to offer Talan help, “Sorry I like forget you’re not all-”  
  
“You wouldn’t know you didn’t come home.”  
  
Talan brushes Oliver’s hand away and steps up on his own. He shuts the door before Oliver gets the chance to do it for him.  
  
“Dude. I couldn’t go home.” Oliver starts defending himself as soon as he gets into the car. “You don’t know-“  
  
Talan glares at him.  
  
“I don’t know?” Talan repeats, “You ain’t even been home. You didn’t even-”  
  
“I’m sorry I didn’t call.” Oliver finishes for him, “I’ve-“  
  
“You’re a dick.” It’s Talan’s turn to finish. “You don’t know.”  
  
Oliver starts the car and Talan reaches to turn on the heat. He turns the dial to the highest setting and freezing cold air blasts out at him.  
  
“The car’s gotta warm up.” Oliver explains before he turns the dial back. “You’re so Florida.”  
  
“I’m cold.” Talan insists.  
  
“Give me two minutes.” Oliver snaps.  
  
Talan watches Oliver adjust his seat, do up his seat belt and pull out of the parking space. By the time they’re out of the parking lot the heat turns on and Talan holds up his fingertips against the heating vents.  
  
“I’m not a dick.” Oliver clarifies, “You don’t know what it’s been like.”  
  
“You don’t know either.” Talan bites back.  
  
“Jesus fuck.” Oliver breaks at a light harder than he has to, “Then tell me.”  
  
“Yo I got bones still healing.” Talan calls out, rubbing his ribs, “Watch it.”  
  
“Did they fight?” Oliver asks instead of apologizing for his driving. “I heard them fight.”  
  
Talan nods.  
  
“About what?”  
  
Talan shrugs.  
  
“I’m not Dads.” Oliver pleads, “I’m not trying to get you in trouble. I just want to-“  
  
 “Dad came home and you didn’t and he was pissed.” Talan starts, “Then no one was planning anything for thanksgiving or my birthday. Dad was drunk and Dad figured it out. It’s bad man.”  
  
“I know.” Oliver nods.    
  
“What happened?” Talan looks sideways.  
  
“Just what I heard on the phone.” Oliver says but he hesitates just enough that Talan knows there’s more.  
  
“What d’you know?” Talan asks, “Tell me.”  
  
“You want to stop for food?” Oliver points to a McDonalds ahead. “I’m starving.”  
  
“Dad’s going to divorce Dad unless he goes to rehab.” Talan keeps talking he tries to reveal enough to get Oliver to talk, “He’s gonna make me move to New York and I won’t see Dad or Brady. I ain’t gonna have the basketball team.”  
  
“Dad’s not gonna pull shit.” Oliver reassures.  
  
“They’re gonna get divorced.” Talan repeats.  
  
“Yeah.” Oliver agrees.  
  
Oliver makes an illegal u-turn and pulls into the McDonald’s drive thru. There are cars ahead of them. When the car comes to a stop Hoops starts clawing his way out of Talan’s hoodie.  
  
“Ow man. Relax.” Talan argues before unzipping his hoodie and pushing it off his shoulders to free the dog. “There. You’re good.”  
  
Hoops wags his tail before jumping up on Talan’s lap to stare out the window. The car in front of them moves forward but Oliver doesn’t.  
  
“Dude.” Talan motions at the road, when he turns to look at Oliver he finds Oliver staring at him.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Your arm.” Oliver points at the bruise.  
  
“Yeah it’s nothing.” Talan lies.  
  
“Bullshit.” Oliver calls him out.  
  
“Dad-”  
  
“Dad _hit_ you?” Oliver’s eyes narrow, “Dad _hit_ you?”  
  
“ _Thanks for choosing McDonald’s_.” They can hear the voice even though Oliver hasn’t rolled down the window. “ _How may help you?_ ”  
  
“Um yeah.” Oliver stammers at the speakers, “Never mind”  
  
They’re blocked into the drive thru by cars yet Oliver takes a sharp right over the parking curbs and pulls into a parking spot.  
  
“Dad.” Oliver repeats, “Like Daddy.”  
  
He uses a long forgotten name for Ryan and Talan gets that Oliver wants to know exactly who to be mad at.  
  
“He….” Talan stammers, “I don’t know… He pushed me he didn’t want me to watch ‘em fight. He was angry and Dad was yelling and I- fell or I’m not sure. He was holding my arm.” Talan stops talking. He reaches over to rub a hand against the bruise.  
  
“Fuck man.” Oliver hangs his head.  
  
“Yeah.” Talan agrees. “Fuck.”  
  
A camera flash lights up the car from Oliver’s side. Once it dims Talan sees someone holding up a phone and waving at them. Without thinking Talan shoots them his middle finger. The flash goes off again.  
  
“Fuck.” Oliver turns his head away and starts the car, “Great.”  
  
“This your life?” Talan asks as they pull away, craning his neck back to look at the people left standing in the parking lot.  
  
“No.” Oliver huffs, “This only happens here.”  
  
Oliver speeds up but it’s clearly not enough. He hits the steering wheel with his fist.  
  
“Why’s this so slow.” He groans, “I miss my car.”  
  
Talan watches Oliver drive aimlessly for a few minutes before his brother merges onto the highway and starts driving away from the city.  
  
“You even know where you are?”  
  
“There’s a GPS.” Oliver points to the centre console. “We can go somewhere else. We don’t have to go to grandma’s.”  
  
“You’re gonna steal her car.”  
  
“Borrow.” Oliver corrects.  
  
“No.” Talan doesn’t even consider the offer, “I wanna go to grandma’s.”  
  
Oliver doesn’t argue. He takes the next exit and turns them around back towards Baltimore. After a few minutes he turns on the GPS.  
  
“Hey man.”  Oliver taps the digital clock on the dash, “S’your birthday.” 

  
**Wednesday, November 24th**  
  
Michael drives. He drives out of Florida and towards Maryland. He considers pulling over at a number of airport along the way and just flying but he doesn’t. Mile after mile he drives and tries not to think about Ryan. Tries to think about his kids and their lives from this point on.  
  
He can still get to his mother’s house on autopilot. Even after driving all night through late November Maryland weather. He pulls into the driveway early in the morning.  
  
Hillary stops him before he can ring the doorbell.  
  
“My kid is here.” He tells her dumbly.  
  
“Your kids are here.” Hilary corrects.  
  
“Oliver’s here?”  
  
Hilary glances over her shoulder into the house before stepping outside and closing the door behind her. She wraps her sweater tightly across her body. Her jaw is set.  
  
“My kids.” Michael points at the door uselessly, he knows he could push past her easily.  
  
“You sent Tal alone on a plane?” Hilary accuses, “On his birthday.”  
  
“He left.” Michael defends himself, still feeling dumb, “I thought he’d be better here.”  
  
“Where’s Ryan?”  
  
“In Florida.”  
  
“Neither of them will talk.” Hilary sounds angrier than before, “Oliver just showed up. Then Talan. I get to know what’s going on. Mom gets to know what’s going on.”  
  
“I just want to take them home.” Michael says.  
  
“No.” Hilary crosses her arm and puts herself in front of the door. “No. They’re staying here.”  
  
“They’re my kids.” He points out again.  
  
“Tal doesn’t even want a cake.” Hillary says accusingly.  
  
“’Cause he gets pumpkin pie.” Michael corrects her.  
  
“He doesn’t like pumpkin pie.”  
  
“No one does.” Michael is exhausted, “It’s just what Ryan does.”  
  
“Did you know Ols can’t swim?” She adds, like she’s tallying up a top ten list of things he doesn’t know about his children. “Bob took him the other day and-”  
  
“He doesn’t want to swim.” Michael defends, “I can’t-”  
  
“No. He can’t.” Hilary specifies. “Maybe you should-”  
  
“He’s not yours.” Michael snaps.  
  
“I’m the closest thing he has to a mom!” Hillary starts to yell but stops.  
   
“No I am.” Michael says his voice quiet and firm.  
  
“You?”  
  
 “I mean we are. That’s our job.”  
  
“Where’s Ryan then?” Hilary accuses, “Why isn’t he here? Why did both your kids run away?”  
  
“That’s between Ryan-“  
  
“Bullshit.” Hilary yells this time. “We have your kids and they’re broken. Mom’s been trying everything. She’s giving Tal a birthday and both of them Thanksgiving because you won’t. You won’t even take care of them.”  
  
“I just want to talk to them.” Michael tries again because the argument is pointless and every accusation Hilary makes hurts more.  
  
“They’re sleeping.” Hilary says and her voice sounds final, “Mom doesn’t want you here.”  
  
“Mom?” Michael starts to laugh.  
  
“No one wants you here.” Hilary specifies. “We’re with the kids.”  
  
“There’s no sides!” Michael argues, “We’re a family. They’re my-“  
  
“Go home.” Hilary ignores his pleas, “Call back later.”  
  
With that she lets herself back into the house. Michael feels a rush of warm air before she disappears behind the door and he hears her lock it.  
  
“I HAVE KEYS.” He yells uselessly after her.  “THEY’RE MY KIDS”  
  
*  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of things I want to say. 
> 
> I’m trying not to make the majority of those things apologies. 
> 
> Truthfully, in order for this to flow better chapter eighteen and the first part of this chapter should be together. The end of this chapter should stand-alone. 
> 
> I’ve thought of deleting chapter eighteen and uploading a new version but I feel that would be unfair. I don’t want anyone to feel like I am forcing them to reread something. 
> 
> I’m asking you to just go with it and not look at a calendar for Thanksgiving in 2032. Spoiler alert: it probably won’t match up. 
> 
> When the Olympics in London happened I was between University and work. Then for a year (the year of Proud and Tides) I lived alone in a city that was a four-hour plane ride from home. 
> 
> On weekdays, I would walk to and from work everyday and think about these stories. I would think about Talan and I would think about Oliver. I came to meet someone who is now one of my dearest friends and we would constantly email back and forth about these stories. I would write from the moment I got home from work to when I would go to sleep. On weekends I would edit and post. 
> 
> It’s been five years since then. I no longer live four hours away from home. I live in my hometown, with someone I love and my life is much happier and busier. 
> 
> Fic has fallen to the wayside, but this story as well as Oliver and Talan have stayed with me even through my disenchantment with Michael Phelps and Ryan Lochte. 
> 
> The idea of Ryan having a drinking problem predates Michael’s Phelps’ DUI by several years. Parts of this chapter were written five years ago. I have kept them in my Phlochte word documents all this time waiting to use them. Parts of this story were originally the second chapter of another story. Some of you may remember the story of Oliver at Harvard from my live journal days. In that story Oliver was the one with the substance abuse issue and the fight between Michael and Ryan was over sending Oliver to rehab. 
> 
> I don’t plan for this to be the last chapter of this fic. However, I can’t guarantee a timeline. I can’t tell you it’ll be posted in a month or during the summer or next Christmas. I can’t promise I will write new fanfic even though I would love to take Oliver and Talan well into adulthood. For the moment I am focussing on original fiction. 
> 
> During the London Olympics, Shaun White decided to go watch Michael Phelps swim and that is how I fell into Olympic rpf. Since then I have written more than I thought I ever could and I am still blown away by how many people have read my work. 
> 
> So many of you have reached out over the years to talk to me. Some of you shared stories from your own life and explained how you related to my stories. It means a lot.
> 
> From the bottom of my heart I really want you to know that I appreciate everyone who’s read these stories. 
> 
> Thank you so much <3


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